an Illustrious Lord [070-4.7]

By: helen dickson

Synopsis:

Romance novel.




Helen Dickson was born and still lives in South Yorkshire with her
husband on a busy arable farm where she combines writing with keeping a
chaotic farmhouse.  An incurable romantic, she writes for pleasure,
owing much inspiration to the beauty of the surrounding countryside.
She enjoys reading and music.  History has always captivated her, and
she likes to travel and visit ancient buildings.

Recent titles by the same author:

LADY DECEIVER

THE RAIN BOROUGH INHERITANCE

KATHERINE

AN ILLUSTRIOUS

LORD

MILLS BOON'


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Chapter One

From a dry June day in 1785, the weather had suddenly changed to a
biting wind and icy rain since Rachel Fairley and her two brothers,
Stephen and Harry, had set out from London in the early morning to
reach their home, Meadowfield Lodge, close to the village of Ellerton
in the heart of Oxfordshire.  Rachel found the journey long and
tedious, made worse by thirteen-year-old Harry's coughing and
sneezing.

He was far from well and she would be extremely relieved to reach their
home where he could be put to bed.  With his eyes closed, he sat
huddled miserably in the corner of the coach, with rags packed about
his slender frame to keep out the invading cold.  Rachel looked across
at Stephen, two years older than her own one-and-twenty years.  He had
said little since the onset of the journey, seeming preoccupied with
his thoughts.

"So, Stephen," she said, breaking into his reverie, "Lord Kingsley is
to return to Mortlake Park.  I have to say that I have no great desire
to meet him."

"Then I must tell you that you are likely to do so,

and very soon, for I believe he is expected to return to Mortlake this
very day---so Aunt Mary informed me before we left for London last
week.  You are bound to meet at some event or other.  "

"Then I shall not look forward to it.  From what I hear of his
character, I think I shall find him a very disagreeable man indeed."

Although Stephen was himself in awe of the formidable Lord Kingsley's
character, nevertheless he gave his sister a look of mild reproach.
"You can hardly judge a man so severely when you have not made his
acquaintance."

"And why not, pray?  I have just cause to think ill of him, as well you
know."

Stephen sighed, finding the cause of his sister's resentment towards
Lord Kingsley rather tiresome.  "Seeing that you constantly harp on
about it, how can anyone fail to be aware of your ill feeling towards
him?  It is the source of his wealth that irks you, is it not?"

"Yes, I admit it, the source of his wealth does disgust me, for it is
well known that his fine house and gardens are maintained by the
profits he makes on his plantation in the Indies--from the misery of
others."

Her brother scowled disapprovingly across at her.  "The same can be
said of others.  There are many among the aristocracy and land-owning
families who own plantations in the West Indies from which they derive
much of their wealth."

"And without the Negro slaves, all of them would no doubt face absolute
ruin.  Slavery is an abomination and should not be tolerated,
Stephen."

"You spend far too much time with Mr.  Nolan discussing the evils of
the slave trade, Rachel," her brother rebuked her.  "Last year--as I
remember--your opinion was raised against the rich Nabobs in India and
their crimes against the Indian people'.

"That was before I was made aware of the evils that exist in the West
Indies--which is surely the worst stain that exists on any area of
British aristocracy."

"That may be true, but Mr.  Nolan's views are too radical by far.  I
blame him for your aversion towards Lord Kingsley; if he were not
forever putting his name forward as an example, then perhaps you would
not have this larger-than-life image of him as being some kind of
tyrant.  It is not usual for a young lady to fill her head with such
affairs, when her time would be better spent discussing more feminine
matters, as our cousins Caroline and Emily do."

Rachel grimaced.  "Much as I love my cousins, Stephen, they do little
other than gossip over a dish of tea; their main preoccupation is their
wardrobe.  They are watched over twenty-four hours a day by Aunt Mary
and talk of nothing more exciting than connections and the sort of
company where good manners and breeding are essential."

She sighed with annoyance.  "It all makes for exceedingly dull company.
One cannot deny that reading and learning expands one's knowledge and
enlivens any conversation."

Stephen silently agreed with her.  Their cousins, the Brayfield
sisters, who lived at impressive Ellerton Hall, just two miles from
their own, less imposing,

home of Meadowfield Lodge, could not compete with Rachel's mental
liveliness.  She thrived on subjects that stimulated her mind and was
forever reading political pamphlets and newspapers.

She was constantly occupied in lively discussion with Mr.  Nolan,
Harry's tutor, which was a cause of annoyance to Stephen who preferred
a quieter, imperturbable lifestyle.  He had never possessed any
enthusiasm for the rig ours of learning, preferring instead--when he
wasn't about the family business.  to concentrate all his efforts and
thoughts on his blossoming courtship with Miss Amanda Kingsley, the
formidable Lord Kingsley's seventeen-year-old sister.

Stephen would be more than happy when Harry was of an age to continue
his education at Oxford and they could dispense with Mr.  Nolan's
services, for he considered that the alarming influence he seemed to
have over Rachel was becoming quite disruptive to her state of mind.

Ever since his introduction into the household two years ago--at a time
when she had been rejected in love by Ralph Wheeler and was nursing a
broken heart--his mild-natured sister had undergone a transformation
almost overnight into a confident and forthright young woman.

Her friendship with Mr.  Nolan was supported by' intelligence and a
mutual interest in endorsing the campaign against the slave trade,
being championed in Parliament by Mr.  Wilberforce, the devout
evangelical Member of Parliament for Yorkshire and Mr.  Nolan's mentor.
Rachel's ardour and preoccupation with the evils of this trade in human
misery was gradually turning into a crusade.

Their father was unconcerned by her avid interest; like most young
ladies who considered they should have some cause or other to support,
he was confident she would abandon it when she put the painful memories
of her unhappy affair with Ralph Wheeler behind her and found herself a
husband.

"It does indeed," Stephen agreed.  "I must say that your strong mind
and natural confidence dominates both our cousins."

"Strong-minded I may be, Stephen--and nothing would give me greater
pleasure than to go out into the world as Kitty has done."  She sighed,
with a wistful look in her eyes, as she referred to their sister, who
had left home to become an actress on the London stage--a disreputable
profession, and frowned upon so ardently by their Aunt Mary.

"But one cannot deny that men's lives and decisions shape female
destinies and will continue to do so for a good many years yet, I am
sorry to say."

They fell silent as the coach continued on its way.  Harry was overcome
by a fresh bout of sneezing, and Rachel placed a hand to his forehead,
concerned that he was still feverish and his eyes too bright, then
passed him a dry handkerchief and secured the rug about his knees.

Glancing out of the window, she wished it was not so depressingly dull
and extremely cold, with rain beginning to fall more heavily.  They
were to stop at the next inn for refreshments, but they could not take
long about it, otherwise the roads would soon become rutted because of
the rain.

They were travelling home in their own private coach after staying in
their Aunt Mary's town house for the past week.  Stephen had gone to
London on some business for his father and, taking advantage of the
opportunity to see Kitty, Rachel and Harry had accompanied him.

They had been unable to see her perform on the stage at Drury Lane,
because the theatre was closed for the summer months.  Unlike most
actors who went on tour during the vacation, travelling with companies
on regular country circuits, Kitty had chosen to stay in London.

This had puzzled Rachel at first because her sister lived for the
theatre and she believed she would have taken any opportunity to
continue her profession, but eventually she accepted her explanation
that she was perfectly happy to remain in London and work in the fruit
shop--above which she had rooms--until the theatre reopened in
October.

To humour Harry, they had taken him on a sightseeing tour of the city,
which included a visit to the Tower of London to see the wild beasts,
and to watch the changing of the guard at St.  James's Palace.  When
Harry developed a streaming cold after taking a trip on the river,
Rachel considered it best for them to return home.

"Lord Kingsley's return to Mortlake Park will spoil everything for you,
Stephen, will it not?"  she commented.

'l have to say it will, Rachel, but if Miss Kingsley and I wish to
marry then we cannot do so without Lord Kingsley's consent.  He is her
guardian, after all, since the death of their father.  "

"Marry?"  retorted Rachel, feigning surprise, for she had been aware
for some time that their relationship was becoming more than mere
friendship.  "So--it has gone that far.  I do hope you have not entered
into any secret commitment with Miss Kingsley, Stephen?"

"No, of course not," he replied with a trace of indignation.  "We are
both of the same mind, but it is not my wish to place her in an awkward
position until she has had the opportunity of speaking to her brother
first."  His expression, as did his brown eyes, softened.  "But is she
not the sweetest thing, Rachel, with the most gentle disposition?  She
does not possess one malicious thought or deed."

Stephen's voice was full of fondness when he spoke of Amanda Kingsley
and Rachel could not deny that she was all he said of her.  Not once in
all the meetings she had had with her when they had met at Ellerton
Hall--when she had been visiting her cousins and Miss Kingsley had been
there also--had She seen the sweetness of her temper ruffled.  They
were well matched and of similar minds.

"Yes, I have to say she is, Stephen," she agreed with a smile, 'and she
does not hide the favourable impression you have made on her either.
Although, I have to say that I have grave misgivings as to how her
brother will react to all this.  I do remember cautioning you on the
affair when you first became acquainted with Miss Kingsley--but would
you listen?  "

"I have to admit the prospect of meeting with her brother does fill me
with trepidation."

"Then do not let it," said his sister firmly.  "You must stand up to
Lord Kingsley.  Do not let him bully you into submission."

Stephen looked at his sister with admiration.  "Unfortunately, I am not
like you, Rachel.  You have always encouraged me by being the sort of
person you are, but I do not possess your confidence or strength of
character."

Rachel looked at him sharply.  "And with that attitude, Stephen, you
will be sure to lose her," she admonished gently.

There was no time to say more; the coach was pulling into the yard of a
wayside inn where they were to partake of refreshment before continuing
on the remainder of their journey to Meadowfield Lodge.  The inn was
crowded with other travellers but, after Stephen had spoken with the
landlord, they were escorted to a private room on the first floor.

Having finished his meal, Stephen left to have a word with their coach
driver while his sister and brother finished their stew.  Harry was
slow at eating, having little appetite for food, his cold seeming much
worse.

Rachel was distracted when two gentlemen were shown into the room by
the landlord.  After furnishing them with tankards of ale, he left to
fetch the food they ordered.  They paid scant attention to Rachel find
her brother, who sat quietly in a corner of the room.  She observed
them absently, watching as they removed their large coats and tall hats
and sat at one of the tables across the room from them.

It was obvious by their manner and dress that they were gentlemen.  The
smaller of the two had light brown hair, a pleasant countenance and a
soft, rather delicate mouth.  However, there was nothing delicate about
his friend.

Rachel judged him to be about thirty-one or two and he was tall and
impressive ver six foot and broad-shouldered, yet lean of body, in the
athletic sense.  The darkness of his countenance was accentuated by the
dazzling white silk neck cloth he wore.

She noted his dark eyes and the richness of his thick, black curly hair
and side burns that curled down to his jaw, which was square and firm
and clean shaven, his mouth large and firm.  He wore a dark green frock
coat, its collar of dark green velvet.  His waistcoat was of dove grey
silk, the same colour as his trousers.

The landlord brought their food, which the smaller gentleman began to
attack with a hearty relish, but the dark-haired gentleman stood up and
moved restlessly towards the window, drinking deeply of his ale, his
black brows drawn together in moody contemplation of the rain
continuing to fall heavily from a sky the colour of pewter.  His
friend, Sir Edgar Mainwaring, cast him a look of annoyance.

"For heaven's sake, William, do Come and eat.  You have been downcast
and disagreeable ever since leaving London.  This beef is quite
delicious," he said, packing a piece into his mouth.  "Come--don't let
it go to waste."

"Thank you, no.  I have no appetite," he replied, his voice deep with
resonance.

"Don't tell me you're still fretting over your brothefts failure to
turn up in London?"  said Edgar.

"Yes, if you must know I am.  We should have met up at Kingsley House
on my return, but as you know he failed to appear.  I have been
informed by an acquaintance of mine that he's taken up with an
actress--an actress, indeed--' he scoffed angrily, 'and that most of
his time is spent at the theatre.  Why he has to consort with women
belonging to such an unworthy, disreputable profession, whose situation
in life is so definitely beneath his own, is quite beyond me."

"Why, you hypocrite," reproached Edgar, pausing briefly in his eating
and showing some amusement, which only increased his friend's anger.
"There is no one who likes the theatre more than you do.  Come--admit
it?"

William chose to disregard his friend's question as he turned and
scowled at him.

"I have been away from England too long, Edgar.  It would appear not
only my sister but also my brother have been allowed far too much
liberty.  He has to learn he cannot live any way he likes.  Oh, he has
good qualities, that I grant.  He is intelligent and does not lack
common sense but he is headstrong and has a tendency to resist
authority--which at times makes him reckless and irresponsible."

"Good heavens!  I see nothing wrong in your brother enjoying the
favours of an actress, if they are freely given.  He is only involved
in a romantic liason with the girl.  Where is the harm in that, pray?
It's not as if he were planning on marrying her."

"And how can I be certain of that?  These actresses exhibit themselves
shamelessly for money, cavorting with every male member of the
audience.  The vulgarity of their profession bars them from any
respectability.  No doubt to hook a gentleman of my brother's calibre
from the audience is the grand finale of the show."

His words had an aggressive ring to-them and, turning suddenly, he put
down his tankard on the table in a way that betrayed his suppressed
anger.  He moved once more to stand by the window, looking out, his
body taut, his hand resting high against the wall, clearly quite put
out by his brother's seemingly irresponsible behaviour and his friend's
easy tendency to condone it.

"Your condemnation is unnecessarily severe, William," Edgar demurred.
"Why--theatres are growing in popularity all the time and there are
some refined, extremely talented and highly versatile actors and
actresses on the London stage.  I know several myself--and sol do you,
come to think of it.  There's many a time you've taken a box at Drury
Lane."

"They can be an amusing form of diversion, I grant you both versatile
on stage as well as off," William replied with irony.  "During my
absence, it appears that my brother has become an ardent visitor to the
gaming halls as well as the theatre, and an expert in dispensing his
favours and his money with merry abandon.  I have a distinct feeling
that he is about to plunge the whole family into a frightful
scandal."

Having finished her own meal, Rachel was sitting quietly in the corner
of the room with Harry, patiently attentive as she tried to coax him to
eat some of the mutton and vegetable stew the landlord had recommended,
hoping it would dispel his pallor and help revive his spirits a
little.

All the while, she had been unable to do other than listen to the angry
discourse between the two gentlemen across the room.  The tall dark
gentleman was clearly angered by his brother's behaviour, while the
other gentleman was trying hard to placate him.

Rachel considered that the content of their discourse was hardly a
matter to be discussed with such loud fervour in the presence of a
thirteen-year-old boy.  He was clearly listening to them, and they were
succeeding in distracting him from the food she was so anxious he
should eat.

Her own anger was rising and she felt victimised; her sister could well
be one of the actresses of whom the tall gentleman spoke with such
biting censure.  Unable to sit and listen to him a moment longer, she
stood up quickly and crossed the room, addressing herself to the
gentleman by the window.

"I would be obliged, sir, if you would kindly keep your opinions to
yourself.  You are upsetting my brother."

William turned his head and looked her full in the eyes, fixing her
with a gaze of angry indifference.  "I am?  Then I am sorry to hear it.
Perhaps, if your brother has such sensitive ears and is so easily
offended, it would be best for all concerned if.he were to leave the
room then we could all air our opinions without danger of giving
offence."

"No, sir, he will not leave the room.  After learning that your brother
is some kind of accomplished Lothario with a penchant for actresses,
then I myself have no wish to hear more, either so I would be obliged
if you would either voice your opinions in a more temperate manner or
leave the room yourself.  The cold air might go some way to banishing
your ill humour."

The young woman's anger and deep blue-eyed animosity might at any other
time have amused William, and he might have taken time to admire her
slender form and the flawless beauty of her face, but now he did not
smile.  His temper was not improved by her bold attack, which caused
his lean face to darken and his lip to curl scornfully across his even
white teeth.

"And I, madam, would be obliged if you would see fit to mind your own
business."

"At least I keep my own business to myself, sir, and do not air my
opinions so vociferously in public."

William's mouth was tight and his black eyes snapped fiercely as he
fixed her with a savage look.  There was a murderous expression on his
face and it was with a great deal of effort that he restrained himself.
"You are extremely outspoken, madam."

"Not usually," she replied, looking at him with a cool hauteur that
belied the anger mounting inside her to match his own.  "Only when I
find myself in the presence of someone as insufferable as yourself.  No
matter what your station in life, sir, I have seen better manners among
the meanest born.

"The vulgar and incomprehensible remarks you made against the women who
choose the stage as their profession were harsh indeed--and decidedly
unjust.  It is with opinions such as these that there is little wonder
your brother chose to relinquish his meeting with you.  I cannot say
that I blame him."

William's face paled significantly beneath his dark countenance,
although he was furious with himself more than with her--for he seldom
betrayed his feelings in this manner.  Before he could reply to her
scornful remarks Edgar, sensing the unpleasantness crackling between
the two of them, stood up to intervene.

"I say--there is no need for this unpleasantness, surely," he said in
an attempt to take the heat out of the situation.  "This young lady is
quite right, William.  You are being extremely boorish.  I apologise
for my friend if he has upset you in any way, madam.  It was not
intentional, I do assure you."

For the first time Rachel unlocked her gaze from that of his friend and
looked at Edgar, a softness entering her eyes and her face breaking
into a warm smile--which Edgar found absolutely enchanting and went a
long way to infuriating his friend further.

"Thank you, sir4 ut I am quite sure your friend is more than capable of
making his own apologies--should he think fit, of course.  However, I
would advise you to be more selective in your choice of friends in
future."

Aware that Harry had left the table and was crossing the room to where
she stood she again fixed the tall gentleman with a look of cool
contempt.  "You, sir, are the most conceited, ill-mannered person I
have ever met and I sincerely hope I do not have the misfortune of
doing so again."  She smiled at his friend.  "Good day to you, sir."
Turning quickly, she moved towards her brother.  "Come, Harry.  Let us
go and see what is keeping our brother."

Picking up her reticule, Rachel left the room with Harry.  A low
whistle escaped Edgar's lips as he watched her go, his eyes full of
admiration, while his friend glowered at the doorway through which she
had disappeared.

"My--what a termagant and enchantress she is.  I

would not have missed that for the world.  It would seem you have
finally met your match, William.  But I must say she was right, you
know," he admonished.  " It was quite discourteous of you to speak to
her as you did--it is not like you--and the young lady was justified in
asking you to moderate your tone.  Clearly she was quite concerned
about her brother, who seemed far from Well to me.  "

"Really!  I have to say I failed to notice."

"Clearly.  It is not like you to let your anger get the better of your
discretion, William.  It was most unwise of you to enter into a quarrel
with such a charming and attractive young woman.  You do not need me to
tell you that the gentlemanly thing to do would be to go after her and
offer your most sincere apologies."

William regarded his friend with genuine astonishment.  "I most
certainly will not."

"Then you are not the man I took you for," said Edgar, quite
disgruntled and returning to do justice to his roast beef, which was in
danger of going cold.

At last some of William's anger relaxed its grip.  Aware of his
friend's deep displeasure caused by his failure to do the decent thing
and apologise to the young woman, and knowing he would get no peace
between here and his home unless he did so--and beginning to feel a
sense of shame for his unforgivable conduct he strode across the room
and went down the stairs, seeing the young woman crossing the yard to a
waiting carriage.

"Please wait," he commanded, stepping out into the rain.

Rachel paused at the sound of his voice, her anger touched with
surprise.  Harry, eager to be out of the rain, ran quickly to the
carriage and clambered inside for shelter.  She turned and looked at
the tall gentleman striding towards her with astonishing agility and
grace for all his height, having to tilt her head slightly to meet his
eyes.

Some deep-rooted feminine instinct made her breath catch in her throat
on being suddenly confronted by a man of such powerful physical
presence.  Unexpectedly, she found herself the victim of an acute
attack of awkwardness and momentarily at a loss for words, for out here
in broad daylight-and in such close proximity is overwhelming
masculinity seemed more pronounced.

Despite her outward calm, inside she was quaking, but she did not lower
her gaze beneath his penetrating assessment of her face as he continued
to study her for a long, uncomfortable moment.

For the first time, William took full measure of her beauty and he
looked with interest, drawn to it, feeling a stirring of admiration.
Her face was both beautiful-and intelligent and there was a defiant and
determined thrust to her small chin as she squared up to him--at odds
with her generous mouth, with lips tantalisingly soft and trembling and
asking to be kissed, hinting at unimaginable, passionate delights.

Her brows were arched and sleek, her eyes, searching his in a cool and
candid manner, a wonderful shade of dark blue with pupils as black as
jet, slanting and slightly tinged with shadows beneath the brim of her
bonnet.  He began to regret the angry words they had exchanged, spoken
in the heat of the moment.

"Please allow me to offer my apologies.  My friend was quite right.  My
behaviour towards you was unpardonable."

The words were harsh but the anger had gone.  Rachel continued to meet
his gaze directly, sensing his apology was offered with reluctance
rather than willingness, and that he had been urged to do so by his
friend.

"You are correct," she said, her voice unrelenting and colder than she
intended as she struggled to overcome the effect he was having on her,
arousing sensations she had thought never to feel again, 'but you have
wasted your time.  Your behaviour was unpardonable, your manners
atrocious.

"Did I not know that you have been prompted by your friend to follow me
out here to apologise, then I would have believed you to be sincere but
as it is--I cannot.  Good day to you, sir."

William's face stiffened into a hard mask and he gave her a long,
incredulous look.  Then his anger returned and he was irritated by her
obstinacy and in no mood to indulge in further argument.

"Then forgive me--I shall trouble you no further.  Good day, madam."

He bent his tall frame in a curt bow and without another word spun on
his heel and went back inside the inn, leaving Rachel to walk to the
coach.  Stephen joined her, observing her vexed countenance.
"Why--Rachel--what is it?"

"That insufferable man!"  she exclaimed, climbing inside the coach.

Stephen climbed in after her.  'l saw you talking to him.  What did he
say?  You are upset.  "

"Not upset, Stephen.  I am angry.  I have to say he is the most
arrogant, conceited man it has ever been my misfortune to meet."

"Then l can only regret that he was shown into the same room as
yourself--for I have to tell you that the gentleman who has so clearly
vexed you was none other than Lord Kingsley."

Rachel stared at him in amazement, momentarily rendered speechless.
"Lord Kingsley!"  she said at length.  "But you must be mistaken."

"Sadly---no.  I've just been speaking to his coach driver, who
confirmed his identity."

"Then I was not favourably impressed.  His ungentlemanly behaviour does
not surprise me in the slightest.  I despise him and I despise
everything he stands for.  I apologise if our angry interchange has
ruined any chance you might have of securing his sister's hand in
marriage-and I have to say that if I were you I would not have Lord
Kingsley for a brother-in-law for a gold crown."

As the coach gathered pace on the increasingly slippery roads Rachel
turned away from her brother's dejected countenance and gazed out of
the window, recollecting what Lord Kingsley had said about his sister,
who she knew must be Amendam-he did not have another.  He had said that
she, as well as his brother, had been allowed far too much liberty
while he had been away from England.

What had he meant by that?  Was it possible that he had heard of
Amanda's association with Stephen and disapproved of it?  If so, then
she found herself feeling extremely.  sorry for her brother.

No matter how hard she tried, she was unable to banish the insufferable
Lord Kingsley from her mind.  She had been prepared to dislike him--and
she had not been disappointed, for he was everything she had imagined
him to be.

Her first impressions of him, now she had become acquainted with him,
had been justified---but no one had told her how strikingly handsome he
was, or that he possessed an overwhelming, physical masculinity that
had the power to render her defenceless, to make the blood run warm in
her veins.

Their meeting had been brief and emotive, but she had felt his
magnetism and knew he was capable of arousing emotions and sensations
inside her painful and disturbing, though pleasurable, sensations that
she had fought to suppress ever since her unhappy affair with Ralph
Wheeler two years ago.  His rejection of her had been harsh and cruel
indeed, causing her to lock her heart and vow never to fall in love
again.

But that was before she had met Lord Kingsley.  Dislike him she might,
but he had the power to remind her that she was still human, still a
woman of warm flesh and blood, and not as immune to the physical allure
of the opposite sex as she thought she was--as she wanted to be.  This
she had been quite unprepared for.


Chapter Two

Harry Was put to bed the moment they arrived at Meadowfield Lodge, a
large manor house in a wooded, picturesque setting just two miles from
the small market town of Ellerton.  Leaving Mrs.  Armstrong, the
housekeeper, fussing about him like a mother hen, Rachel went down to
find her father, his silver head bent over some ledgers, in his
study.

George Faifiey was a thin man of medium height, with an abiding and
gentle nature, who cared deeply for all his children--although how he
wished Stephen, his heir, possessed some of his two daughters' strength
of mind and they some of his compliance.  His dear wife--dead these
past three years had been self-willed and in possession of a sharp
intelligence, which both Kitty and Rachel had inherited.

BOth were headstrong and impetuous young ladies--Rachel having become
more so of late; in fact, ever since the death of her mother and
Kitty's departure for the theatre.  Because of his own increasing ill
health--which he knew worried her a great deal, however hard she tried
not to show it she had now taken on the problems of the whole family.

Rachel crossed the room towards her father, deeply concerned about him.
His face was seamed and lined, his skin like parchment.  His heart was
weak and he was frequently racked with a troublesome cough that would
sap his strength.  The doctor visited him frequently and, thankfully,
the medicine he prescribed usually helped for a short while, offering
him some relief.

Rachel-loved her father with all her heart and worried about him all
the time.  Her mother's death and Kitty's leaving had taken something
out of him; she felt a strong need to protect him from any further
worry.  She was thankful that of late he had placed most of his
business affairs in Stephen's capable hands, relieving himself of a
great burden.

He looked up when she entered.

"Well, Rachel--' he beamed at her '---it's good to have you home again.
You enjoyed your visit to London, I hope?"

"Yes, very much," said Rachel going to him and placing her arm
affectionately about his thin shoulders, thinking sadly how frail he
had become.  Trying not to show her concern, she planted a light kiss
on his broTM.  "Although I regret taking Harry on the river, for I fear
that was where he caught his chill."

"I dare say he'll get over it now he's home with Mrs.  Armstrong and
yourself to fuss over him.  He's a strong boy with a good constitution
and will not be down for long.  I wonder how he will take it when I
tell him that Mr.  Nolan is to leave us," he said.

Looking at his daughter from beneath lowered lids,

he chose his words with care for, considering the friendship that had
developed between the two of them over the past months, he knew this
would come as something of a surprise to her also.

He was right in his thinking; Rachel stared at him in shocked
amazement.  "Mr.  Nolan is leaving us?  But what on earth for?"

"As well you know, he has never made any secret of his interest in
politics--in which area he is ambitious to carve himself a
career--although I find his views slightly too radical myself.  I
believe he has been tempted up to Yorkshire by Mr.  Wilberforce to
assist in bringing voters to the polls.  I do not doubt that we shall
see him as a Member of Parliament before very long."

Rachel was saddened by this news, for she would miss Mr.  Nolan and
their interesting debates sorely.  Although, from the outset, when he
had come to Meadowfield Lodge to be Harry's tutor, she had not been
deceived: Kitty had been the true object of his interest.

Kitty, with her head high in the clouds, with never a thought of
marrying anyone and settling down, her whole being and reason for
living captivated by the idea of becoming an actress, had hardly been
aware of it.  She had treated him with amusing indifference, in direct
contrast to the seriousness of her admirer, and saw no necessity of
making herself agreeable to him.

Recovering from a shattered love affair With Ralph Wheeler and
reluctant to become romantically involved again with any man and to
risk being hurt a second time--as well as having to endure pity and
sympathetic kindness from family and friends once more--Rachel's own
interest in Mr.  Nolan was confined to his intellectual capacity; she
was not in the least jealous of the interest he had showed in Kitty.

Hemmed in, and often oppressed by the restrictions imposed on the
female sex by the society of that time, he had opened Rachel's mind to
worldly affairs, making her realise just how ignorant she was.

Since Kitty had left Meadowfield Lodge twelve months earlier, Mr. Nolan
had endured her absence in a sad and dignified manner.  But Rachel was
deeply conscious of his inner suffering, so it did not surprise her
that he had decided to give up tutoring to enter politics.

"But what about Harry's education?  You will have to set about finding
him another tutor---although you will be hard pressed to find one as
competent and likeable as Mr.  Nolan."

'l am considering sending Harry away to school--if the idea appeals to
him, that is.  It will be good for him to be in the company of other
boys.  But tell me how you found Kitty?  She is well, is she?  "

"Kitty is very well," Rachel replied, smiling fondly at her father,
knowing he had been waiting anxiously for news of his eldest daughter
ever since their departure for London, although, when she had seen
Kitty at her lodgings, she had noticed a change in her.

Rachel had thought she had seemed preoccupied and had looked a little
pale, which she had put down to her working too hard at the theatre,
for Kitty had explained that being an actress was an extremely
demanding profession and she had often been compelled to keep late
nights because of either the lateness of the show or rehearsals.

Since the closure of the theatre for the summer months she had worked
long hours in the fruit shop, for Kitty had been determined to support
herself from the outset, refusing to accept the offer of an allowance
from her father.  Rachel had been a little concerned about her, but
said nothing to her father, not wishing to worry him unduly.

"And has she still got her head set on carving out a profession for
herself in the theatre?"

"Very much so.  Although I have to say that, by all accounts, she
appears to be extremely talented--more so than any of us have given her
credit for.  As yet she has to be given a major role but she is
certainly a rising star."

"From the moment I took her to London on her eighteenth birthday to see
a play at Drury Lane she fell prey to the allure of the theatre.  I've
often wished we had remained at home instead."

"She would have found her own way there eventually, Father," said
Rachel gently.  "You have nothing to reproach yourself with.  Kitty was
determined to become an actress.  You did everything in your power to
dissuade her, but your objections and pleas for her to think again fell
on deaf ears."

Her father nodded, a deep sadness entering his tired grey eyes, knowing
Rachel spoke the truth.  He had done his utmost to discourage Kitty
from leaving home to become an actress.  He was an honourable man of
high principles, loving and caring, and he had always been available
for all his children.  He was not likely to turn away should one of
them decide to stray from the fold.

When Kitty had told him of her decision to become an
actress--regardless of how outrageous and degrading the profession was
considered to be for a gentleman's daughter by the standards of the
time, by most of their neigh hours and the small, closely knit
community of EllertOn--it was not in his nature to banish her from his
home.

Even though the sort of life she had chosen to lead would be like
poison to a decently brought-up young woman's mind, daily he hoped that
she would see the error of her ways, come to her senses and return
home.

At the time Rachel, who was three years younger than Kitty and
extremely fond of and close to her sister, had said little; her own
private opinion was one of criticism, for she had been irritated by
what she had considered to be her sister's selfishness and utter
disregard to the pain her decision to become an actress had caused
their father--and so soon after their mother's demise.

True to his nature, there had been no thought of recrimination on his
part as he had watched her go to serve her apprenticeship with a
provincial theatrical company in Bath, before being spotted for her
talents and recruited to the company of the theatre in Dmry Lane.  He
had known that she would go with or without his blessing and so, loving
her as he did,.  he had given it.

But Kitty, regarded by her family as being headstrong and
unpredictable, had given no thought to the fact that her actions could
damage or bring shame to her family, and especially to Rachel's own
prospects of making a decent marriage.  It had ruined her chances of
ever marrying Ralph Wheeler, a young well-to-do gentleman who had lived
in Oxford, with whom she had fallen deeply in love with all the
passionate ardour of youth.

The moment his family had found out about Kitty's attachment to the
theatre, Ralph had ceased to call on her at Meadowfield Lodge.  No
explanation had been given, but Rachel had known that for this reason
his parents had been set against any union between them.  In no time at
all, she had heard that he had married a young woman of equal wealth
but with no scandal attached to her name, wounding Rachel more deeply
than anyone had realised.

"Have you seen anything of Aunt Mary while we've been in London,
Father?"  Rachel asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away
from Kitty and dispel the sad, sombre look in her father's eyes.

"Yes---as a matter of fact, I have.  My dear sister called just this
morning.  She's very excited about Lord Kingsley's expected return to
Mortlake Park and has been in quite a flap for days now.  She intends
entertaining more than usual in the hope that he will notice one of her
girls."

He smiled, looking lovingly at Rachel and lowering his tone to a
conspiratorial whisper.  "Although neither of them can hold a candle to
you, Rachel--even though I do say so myself.  With your looks, you'll
no doubt daZZle our noble neigh bout and steal him from right under
their very noses."

Recollecting the unpleasant encounter she'd had with the aforesaid
gentleman, Rachel gave him a wry smile.  "That I very much doubt,
Father."

"It's strange that we have lived at Meadowfield

Lodge for the past five years and the only members of the Kingsley
family we have met are Miss Amanda and her brother James--who, I
believe, is in London at this time and whose reputation is described as
being somewhat dubious.

"His elder brother, Lord Kingsley, has always struck me as being an
elusive sort of character, spending much of his time in the West Indies
as he does.  Although my dear sister has informed me that he now
intends settling at Mortlake Park for good."

"Yes, I have heard that, also."

"I wonder when we will have the pleasure of meeting another member of
the family," her father mused.  "I already have this very afternoon."

Her father looked at her curiously.  "Oh?  Then I assume you are
referring to Lord Kingsley himself--seeing as his stepmother never
leaves the house.  Although why a woman should want to keep herself
cooped up inside such a great house grand though it is-is quite beyond
me.

"There are some who say she is of a somewhat eccentric nature and does
not enjoy the best of health--for which I must sympathise.  Her father
owned a plantation on Antigua, I believe, which was where Lord
Kingsley's father met her.  She was an only child and her family no
longer own any property on the island ut my sister has led me to
understand that both James and Amanda will become extremely wealthy on
her death."

"Yes--so I believe.  A good catch for anyone.  However, it was james's
elder brother, Lord Kingsley, I encountered at the inn where we stopped
for refreshments on our journey from London."

'1 see," said her father with interest.  " And what did you make of
him?  Was he the formidable gentleman he is reputed to be?  Or was he
quite the opposite?  "

"I suppose he could be, if the mood took him, but I have to say I found
him to be the former--and full of his own importance.  Lord Kingsley
did not endear himself to me in the slightest.  I found him wanting in
both manners and civility.  He did not conduct himself with the dignity
worthy of a member of the peerage.  '

Her father looked at her with some surprise.  "Dear me, such harsh
censure.  What has the poor man done to warrant your low opinion,
Rachel?"

Quickly Rachel gave her father an account of her meeting with Lord
Kingsley.  When she had finished, he shook his head, a deeply troubled
expression having appeared on his face as he listened to his daughter
recount Lord Kingsley's reference to the lowliness of an actress's
profession.

"If people make such disparaging remarks as these, then Kitty will have
to be a determined young woman indeed to withstand them.  Where was
Stephen while this unpleasant encounter was taking place?"

"Outside with the coachman."

"Then, taking into consideration his fondness for Miss Kingsley, I do
not suppose he was well pleased.

Were you introduced to Lord Kingsley?  "

"No."

"Then if you should meet again--for it is certain you will at some
time, given your aunt's extensive programme of social events at which
Lord Kingsley will be top of her invitation list--it seems I shall have
to be present in order to keep the peace."  He chuckled.  "Now come, my
dear, let us go in search of Stephen.  I'm sure you must both be quite
ravenous after your journey."

Before coming to Meadowfield Lodge, the Faideys had lived in London.
They were a family of considerable wealth, their fortunes lay in the
coal which had been mined up in Newcastle, going back to the time of
Charles II when one of their ancestors--as a reward for his loyalty to
the King--was awarded an annuity of one thousand pounds and a small
royalty on coal dues in the north.  Over the years as manufacturing
increased, so did the demand for coal and the Fairleys' wealth.

However, their wealth was not as considerable as that of George
Fairley's widowed sister Lady Mary Brayfield, who had made a
prestigious marriage.  Because of the Fairleys' lack of rank, George's
daughters could not expect to make such esteemed marriages as their
cousins, Lady Mary's daughters, Caroline and Emily.

Living so close and both having lost their partners in life served a
mutual purpose for George Fair Icy and his widowed sister.  On occasion
she would act as chaperon to his daughters---although since Kitty's
departure for the stage there was only Rachel---and he as his sister's
companion.

This was seldom Of late, for, sadly, the deterioration in his health
did not allow him to move far from Meadowfield Lodge or to partake in
the exhausting excitement of many social events.

On Lord Kingsley's return to Mortlake Park, after being in the West
Indies for the past six months, his sister's visits to Ellerton Hall to
see Caroline and Emily--where, by design, Stephen would also hap, pen
to be---had become less frequent.  Deprived of the pleasure of her
company, he had become sunk in gloom and despondency.

Because Rachel had been kept busy nursing Harry through his severe
chill, she had been unable to visit Ellerton Hall.  It had been after
one of Ste ful visits to their aunt Mary that she had asked him about
Miss Kingsley.

"According to our cousins," he told her, his mood one of dejection,
'she spends a great deal of time with Lord Kingsley's friend, Sir Edgar
Mainwaring, who is staying at Mortlake for a few weeks.  He is very
attentive towards her, by all accounts, and i: Caroline told me herself
that she is sure Lord Kingsley has marked him out for Amanda.

"He has been a close friend of her brother's for many years and thinks
very highly of him.  he is a most suitable connection; both Caroline
Emily are certain that if anything comes of it they will be very happy
together.  I fear I have been slighted, Rachel," he finished
miserably.

"From what I can remember of Sir Edgar, he was quite charming, but not
for one moment do I think you have been slighted especially not by
Kingsley.  Such an insult is not in her nature.  It will be her
brother's doing--that you can be sure of."

"Then what is to be done, Rachel?"

"You must go to Mortlake Park and confront Lord Kingsley.  If you value
his sister's friendship and wish to win her over, then you must be firm
and decisive in this matter, or by your complaisancy it is certain you
will lose her."

"But maybe she no longer cares for me."

"Having observed the two of you together, Stephen, by her very look I
can see she has more than a hint of affection for you.  If you already
have her heart, then she will not so easily give it to another-even if
that other happens to be a man of her brother's choosing."

"But you can hardly expect him to approve of his sister allying herself
to a man of my station--without rank or breeding.  I feel I am a little
out of their class."

"The Fairleys are a highly respectable family, Stephen," Rachel chided
him.  "Our connections may not be aristocratic, but they are certainly
not to be ashamed of.  Why--you and our father are each as much a
gentleman as Lord Kingsley.  Besides--a title does not make a man a
gentleman in the literary sense of the word.  Anyone who is acquainted
with you could not doubt your respectable reputation and
dependability."

"Nevertheless, I cannot compete with Sir Edgar Mainwaring who, like
Lord Kingsley, can claim connection to some of the greatest peers in
the land."

Rachel turned from him to go in search of Harry.  "Go to Mortlake Park
and face Lord Kingsley," she said, pausing and looking back from the
doorway at his downcast face, 'and who knows--he may prove to be a more
amiable man than the ogre he has been depicted.  Although," she said,
her tone taking on a note of gentle teasing, 'after my own disagreeable
encounter with him at the inn on our journey from

London--I am sorry to have to say that I very much doubt it.  "

It was at Ellerton parish church, three weeks after their return from
London, that Rachel had her second encounter with Lord Kingsley.  As
usual, she was attending Sunday morning matins, seated between her
father--who was feeling well enough to attend the service--and her aunt
Mary on the hard wooden bench of the pew.  Her cousins Emily and
Caroline were seated with Stephen and Harry--who had recovered from his
severe chill--in the pew in front.

Just before the ageing pastor began the service, she was aware of a
stir among the congregation.  Turning slightly, she saw that two
gentlemen and a young lady had just entered the church and were seating
themselves in the Kingsleys' family pew towards the back of the
church.

A ripple of whisperings spread throughout the congregation, for it was
quite an event to see any member of the eminent Kingsley family present
at a church service--only Miss Amanda on occasion.

Over the years, the present Lord Kingsley's father--who had not been a
particularly likeable man had possessed little time for the church and,
in consequence, the family pew had remained noticeably empty--although
the ancient marble tombs inside the humble church were occupied by
several of their ancestors.

Rachel recognised Miss Amanda Kingsley, who knelt demurely, bowing her
head over her hands clasped in prayer.  She also recognised the
pleasant countenance of Sir Edgar Mainwaring, but when her eyes came to
rest on Lord Kingsley, nothing could have prepared her for the
unimaginable thrill that shot through her, a quivering excitement that
almost took her breath away.

He was exactly as she remembered him--tall and darkly featured and just
as incredibly handsome.  His hat was held in his gloved hand and his
head proudly set.  His expression was alert and one of highly charged
emotion, as if he battled with some inner thought.

It was not until he met her gaze, his eyes widening in recognition and
total surprise, that she realised she was staring at him across the
yawning abyss that separated them.  Observing the stern set of his
features and remembering the unpleasantness of their previous
encounter, whether it was the time that had elapsed since then which
had softened her anger, or the aura of godliness which filled the
ancient church, Rachel's opinion of him had softened slightly.

Was he always so serious, she asked herself, so severe?  But then, she
thought with mild amusement, since returning to Mortlake Park, perhaps
the poor man had little to smile about.  Maybe allowances should be
made and she should not judge him too harshly, for what right had she
when she was neither acquainted with his manner nor the peculiarities
of his nature?

She turned from him, giving her attention to her prayer book, although
throughout the service as she tried to keep her eyes fixed on the altar
and the pastor in his white surplice, and recite the holy words of the
prayers she knew by heart, she could feel Lord Kingsley's dark eyes
burning holes into her back.

She was certain he observed her every move.

When the final amen had been said, the congregation slowly drifted
outside into the bright glare of the morning sunlight.  From where he
was standing, Lord Kingsley observed Rachel coming out of the church,
clutching her prayer book in her gloved hands.

She stopped to speak to someone, smiled and began to walk along the
path in his direction where he had paused to speak to the pastor, who
was effusing at length on the honour it was to see him and his sister
among the congregation.  Rachel had no alternative but to pass close by
him in order to reach the gate which led out on to the road.

Lord Kingsley saw that she moved with dignity and grace and was quite
tall and perfectly portioned.  As she came closer, he saw that her was
flawless, her hair beneath her bonnet of a dark and lustrous quality
and her eyes, filled with animation and intelligence and dominating her
face, he well remembered, were of a deep shade of blue slanting
attractively upwards.

Her lips were pink and delectable, hovering between a pout and a
wickedly attractive smile, her eyes unable to hide some amusement
caused by an inner thought.  He lowered his head in acknowledgement and
watched her pass on, observing her turn her head slightly and glance
back at him, her mouth turning provocatively up at the corners.

With the pastor's words falling on his deaf ears William stared after
her, his features as expressionless as one mesmerised.  He watched her
walk down the path towards the road, curious as to who she could be and
determined to find out more about her.

Rachel stopped by their carriage standing outside the church gate. With
Harry by his side and his hand resting on his son's narrow shoulder,
her father had stopped to speak to his sister, who was hovering outside
the church porch with Caroline and Emily in the hope of having a word
with Lord Kingsley when he had finished speaking to the pastor.

Stephen, she saw, was in happy conversation with Miss Kingsley, who was
dressed in dark blue.  She had a graceful slenderness and was quite
tall with fine-boned, sharp features and a poetic countenance.  Her
hair was fair, her eyes soft and brown.

Rachel smiled suddenly when she saw a beaming Sir Edgar coming quickly
towards her.

"Why-qhis is a surprise--and a very pleasant one too, I might say.  You
do remember our meeting at the inn, I hope?"

"Of course I remember."  She smiled.

He frowned suddenly, recollecting the unpleasant circumstances of that
encounter.  "Yes, you would, wouldn't you?  I imagine such a meeting
would be difficult to forget.  I'm afraid my friend Lord Kingsley was
not in the best of humour that day."

"Now that I do remember."  She laughed.  "I can only hope that his
temper is much improved."

"Yes, indeed it is.  Tell me, do you live in Ellerton?"

"About two miles outside---on the Oxford road."  Edgar turned slightly
to Lord Kingsley who, drawn towards the young woman who, regrettably,
had experienced the violent impact of his temper on the day he had
returned to Mortlake Park, had come to stand beside him.

He was so aloof, so superior, so carelessly confident and aware of his
power and masculinity, making Rachel acutely conscious of his presence.
She bobbed a curtsy and, with a formal inclination of his head, he
acknowledged her coolly, a barely perceptible smile playing on his
lips, but Rachel was aware that, quite deliberately, he was turning on
her the full force of his powerful personality.

His dark eyes, which she remembered had been filled with anger on their
previous encounter, were cordial now, but she felt the pull of their
magnetism and was in danger of being overthrown by it, for not since
her association with Ralph Wheeler had a man looked at her in such a
way as this.

Why she should think of Ralph just then she could only guess at, for
she had suppressed all thought of him for so long, but the bold
assessment of Lord Kingsley's gaze had brought unwanted memories back
to haunt her, and she felt the chains that imprisoned her in the past
begin to loosen.  Lord Kingsley looked the perfect gentleman but to
Rachel's vulnerable and unhappy heart, he spelt danger.

After polite introductions had been made, he addressed her.  "So, Miss
Fair Icy we meet again."

He spoke with the same deep resonance that Rachel remembered, each word
exact, the tone and level of his voice conveying to her the measure of
his self-control.

"Yes, we have met," she admitted, her voice cool though not hostile.
"Although I have to say that I am surprised you remember me."

"You made quite an impression on my friend,"

laughed Sir Edgar.  "It's a rarity indeed for a young lady to have the
courage to stand up to him when she is not accustomed to his temper."

"I am not afraid of Lord Kingsley," she said, meeting the aforesaid
gentleman's direct gaze once again.  His eyes were powerfully
compelling, almost refusing her permission to look away.  "Nor am I
afraid to speak my mind when the occasion warrants it."

"You made that perfectly clear," he said.  "Having had time for
reflection, Miss Fairley, am I now forgiven?  My behaviour to you then
was unpardonable.  I have reproached myself many times on my conduct
that day.  It was quite inexcusable."

"Your behaviour did not recommend you to me in the slightest, Lord
Kingsley, but yes---' she relented, unable to prevent her lips from
curving slightly in a smile, and not wishing to jeopardise further any
chance Stephen might have of securing the hand of his sister '--you are
forgiven."

"Thank you.  Tell me, Miss Fairley, do you live locally?"

"Yes."

"And have you lived in Ellerton long?"

"Five years no more."

"That long?  I do not recall having seen you."

"Perhaps that is because I live about two miles outside Ellerton, Lord
Kingsley, and also because you have been absent from these parts for
long periods over the years."

"Unfortunately, that is so--but I hope to rectify that in the
future."

"You are acquainted with my aunt, I believe," Rachel said, looking
towards her aunt Mary who had been waylaid by the pastor as she had
been hurrying to approach Lord Kingsley before he left the
churchyard.

He followed her glance.  "Ah--LadY Brayfield!

She is your aunt?  "

"Yes."

Lord Kingsley nodded.  "Charming ladymwith two fine daughters."

"Yes, indeed," reiterated Sir Edgar, glancing towards Caroline and
Emily standing dutifully beside their mother, his eyes resting
appreciatively on Caroline in a way that contradicted any suspicions
Stephen might have that he had any designs on Lord Kingsley's sister.
"Lady Brayfield has very kindly invited us to attend a party at
Ellerton Hall next week,

Miss Fairlcy is that not so, William?  "

"She has, indeed."

"It promises to be a fine evening---amusing and diverting.  Are you to
attend, Miss Fairley?"

"Yes--I believe so."

"I say," said Sir Edgar, his gaze suddenly diverted.  "Who's that
fellow your sister is conversing with, William?"

Simultaneously Lord Kingsley and Rachel looked to where Amanda was
still talking to Stephen.  They stood apart and Amanda's face was
raised to his, her lips parted in a smile.  There was a look of utter
absorption on their faces, a look which told the onlookers that hidden
emotions and the forces of nature were at work between these two--a
look which excluded all else.

The meeting was a casual one, unexpected yet welcome to the two people
under observation, but not,

apparently, to Amanda's brother, whose sleek black brows were drawn
together in a deep frown of disapproval.  Rachel heard him take a deep
breath and saw his eyes darken with anger.

Lord Kingsley watched as his sister, becoming suddenly aware of their
scrutiny, turned and walked towards them with Stephen by her side.  He
frowned, clearly displeased.

Rachel saw that Amanda's eyes were aglow, her face pretty and
pink--whether it was from the cool wind that blew in the churchyard,
snaking its way between the thick dark yew trees and tall tombstone
slabs, or Stephen's presence, was a matter for conjecture.

But one could not help noticing how close she stood to his side, how
lovely she looked and how radiant--and how Stephen gazed at her with
unfeigned admiration.  However, Rachel could not help feeling sorry for
Amanda; it could be no easy matter having Lord Kingsley for a
brother.

Observing the tightening of Lord Kingsley's features when he looked at
her brother, Rachel felt a stirring of anger inside her.

"Allow me to introduce my brother," she said with a note of defiance
that no one could fail to be aware of.  "Mr.  Stephen Fair Icy Stephen,
may I present Lord Kingsley and Sir Edgar Mainwaring?"

The atmosphere was formal, the moment one of awkwardness.  It was plain
to Rachel that Lord Kingsley was most displeased that his sister had
been allowed to form such a close attachment with a man not of his
choosing during his absence---and it was also plain that he would do
all in his power to discourage it.

Taking his sister's elbow, Lord Kingsley bowed.  "I am pleased to make
your acquaintance," he said abruptly.  The tone' of his voice was
impatient; it was plain that he was eager to be away.  "Please--excuse
us."  His dark gaze swept over them in a dismissive manner, lingering
for a moment on Rachel's face, which was open and defiant, before they
moved on to their waiting carriage.

Standing beside the stiff form of his sister, Stephen sighed deeply.
"Lord Kingsley is a fearsome-looking gentleman don't you agree,
Rachel?"

"So he seems.  But I am not afraid of him, Stephen.  My opinion
regarding Lord Kingsley remains unchanged.  The man is intolerable."

And yet, staring after him, Rachel saw his features in her mind's eye
and felt an emotion, overwhelmingly at variance with the conclusion she
had made as to his character, that troubled her greatly--an emotion she
was reluctant to revive and did not wish to acknowledge.

Chapter Three

With his hands clasped lightly behind his back, William Kingsley stood
looking out of the long window in the grand drawing-room at Mortlake
Park, letting his eye wander appreciatively down the gentle sweep of
velvety lawns towards the black waters of the slender lake glistening
in the valley below.  Several acres of woods and low rolling hills
surrounded the house and valley.

After spending many years of his adult life in the West Indies
overseeing his family's business affairs, it was good to be back in
England---back at Mortlake, which had mellowed over the years, the
golden yellow stones of which it was built streaked with reddish
brown.

Mortlake Park was a perfect product of centuries of redesign and
development, as each generation of Kingsleys had adapted it to fit
their needs.  William's inheritance was both ancient and beautiful, and
he considered it a privilege to call it his home, where he hoped he
could now settle down.

However, there was a dark cloud hanging over his family that could not
be ignored.  Ever since the demise of his father two years earlier,
leaving him to care for James and Amanda, his father's children by his
second wife--his first wife having died when William was in his
infancy---his family had been beset with troubles that were a constant
worry to him.  Now, his most outstanding concern was his stepmother's
health.

He turned from his quiet contemplation of the lake when one of the
footmen announced the arrival of Mr.  Stephen Fair Icy With interest,
he watched the newcomer walk stiffly towards him, a nervousness about
his manner.  Whether it was from awe at finding himself in such
magnificent surroundings, or fear at the reception he was to receive
from its owner, was a matter for conjecture.

He stopped before William, who could see how he strove to overcome his
nervousness, yet there was a simple pride in his upright bearing and
the way Stephen looked him straight in the eye, which William admired,
despite himself.  Before he had returned to Mortlake--having received,
from James in his letters, an account of Amanda's attachment to this
young man---he had been determined to put an end to the relationship,
but that was before he had made the acquaintance of his sister.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not banish Rachel Fair Icy from
his thoughts.  He was fascinated and drawn to her.  She intrigued and
tormented him in such a way that his instinct told him to tread with
care where the Fairleys were concerned--especially with regard to the
delicate matter of his sister's friendship with her brother.

His own half-brother, James, was no saint, being a wild young hoyden
with a reputation for gaming, drinking and wenching with an assortment
of mistresses from the theatre.  William had come home with the
intention of curbing James's wild ways, but as yet he had failed to
locate him since returning from the Indies, and he could not return to
London to search him out until this tiresome matter with his sister was
settled.

On learning of Stephen Fairley's close friendship with his sister, he
had made it his business to find out as much as he could about the
Fairleys.  They were well to do-of that there was no doubt, their money
having been invested wisely and successfully by George Fairley's
forebears in coal and in the manufacture of textiles in the north of
the country.

Maintaining a modest lifestyle, the Fairleys lived without ostentation.
Nothing but good was said of George, whose manners bespoke good
breeding, and his son's behaviour and duty to his family could not be
faulted.

The Kingsleys were members of one of England's oldest and wealthiest
families and William could claim close acquaintance with many peers of
the realm, whereas Stephen Fairley was of little consequence and with
no suitable connections to recommend him--and yet he had the look and
bearing of a gentleman.

Through his enquiries, William had learned that," against her family's
wishes, George Fairley's eldest daughter had left home to carve herself
a career on the stage.  Because of it, her younger sister, Rachel, had
suffered a broken romance, which, by all accounts, had wounded her
deeply and from which, some said, she would never recover.

With their aristocratic background, the young man's family, finding it
unacceptable for their son to be joined in an alliance to a young woman
whose sister--though the family were prominent members of
society--indulged in such low behaviour, had steered him in the
direction of another, more suitable young woman.

William strongly suspected that this was Miss Fairley's reason for
being on the defensive whenever they met, why she tried to appear
unapproachable--when all the while, beneath her cool facade, there beat
the heart of a woman with a burning desire to be loved.

As the two men faced each other, each remembered their meeting in
Ellerton churchyard.  Stephen was the shorter of the two, his body
fine-boned and slender, with eyes that glowed deep blue---the only
similarity he had to his wilful, bold and beautiful sister, William
observed with a keen eye.  He could feel the blood run warm in his
veins when he thought of her, and was determined to be the one to
exorcise the ghost of her lost love.

He received Stephen Fair Icy with cool politeness, his manner brusque
but not hostile.  "I am happy to welcome you to Mortlake Park, Mr. Fair
Icy To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Thank you for receiving me.  I have a serious matter I wish to discuss
with you, sir."  '

"Let me be the judge of that, Mr.  Fair Icy " Of course.  It--it
concerns your sister, sir.  " " Yes!  -thought it might.  I understand
that during my absence you have formed an attachment to her is that
correct?  "

"Yes."

"So--what is it that you wish to see me about?"  'l--I am aware that
what I am about to ask will take you by surprise, sir--but I would
consider it an honour if you would consent to Miss.  Kingsley becoming
my wife.  "

Having fully expected this, William showed no surprise.  There was a
moment's silence before he spoke, his face remaining expressionless.

"Honoured!  Yes.  Considering your situation in life I am sure you
would be," he replied with a touch of irony that was not lost on
Stephen.  "However, Amanda is very young and extremely naive in such
matters.  The romantic attachment she feels for you I put down to
youthful infatuation."

Stephen stiffened.  "There I have to contradict you, sir."

William's eyebrows rose.  "Do you, indeed?"

"Your sister and I have come to care for each other deeply, sir--and
whatever you may have heard, I must tell you that our friendship has
not advanced beyond conversation.  It has all been conducted in a
decent and proper manner."

"So I should hope.  However, I have to say that the overtures you made
to her during my absence do not meet with my approval.  It is my wish
that any acquaintance between you should cease--for the time being, at
least."

'1 see.  Then, does that mean I can hope?  "

William seemed to consider his question carefully before favouring him
with a reply.  He nodded ever so slightly, looking him directly in the
eye, speaking softly.  "Everyone is allowed to hope, Mr.  Fair Icy

"I have no title to offer her----no grand estates or family connections
to match your own--but my family's wealth and the fact that I am my
father's heir would guarantee that your sister lacked for nothing.  The
deep love and devotion I feel for her is unequalled."

Remembering the look that had-passed between his sister and this young
man in the churchyard--a look that had told him there was true
affection between them--William did not doubt his words.  But, for
reasons of his own--family reasons, whether right or wrong, that were
best left unsaid--in all conscience he could not give his consent to an
alliance between them at this time.

He could not deny that he liked and approved of Stephen Fair Icy He was
a fine, intelligent young man who would make Amanda a good husband and
be an asset to the family.  It pained him greatly to refuse his
request; by doing so, he knew how deeply his refusal would hurt his
sister.  But he had no choice.  He turned from him, finding it
exceedingly difficult to continue looking into his deep blue eyes--eyes
filled with hope and desperation.

'l am sorry, Mr.  Fair Icy I cannot give my consent to your request at
this time.  "

"What of Miss Fairley's mother?  Should she not be consulted on this
matter?"  Stephen dared to venture.

"No," William replied quickly---much too quickly, Stephen thought. "Her
mother is of the same opinion as myself--and besides, I do not wish to
trouble her at this time.  She is not in good health."

"Then am I to understand that you do not consider me a suitable match
for your sister because my family circumstances do not meet with your
approval?"

"It is not my intention to be disrespectful towards your family, Mr.
Fairley; from what I have heard of your father, I hold him in the
highest regard.  His reputation as a gentleman and a businessman is
unequalled and, I regret to say, as yet I have not had the honour of
making his acquaintance."

Stephen's face had taken on a youthful dignity as he looked at the
older man.  His age and inexperience Were evident, yet he was prepared
to stand his ground to defend his good name if required.  "MY father is
a private man, Lord Kingsely, and benevolent, with a rational and
cultivated mind.  There is no one better."

"Yes--I am sure you are right, and your loyalty towards him is to be
commended.  Should I give my consent for you to form an alliance with
my sister, then I fully understand the value of such a connection to
your family, but I have to tell you that it simply cannot be.  Amanda
has been too long at Mortlake without company, her only companions
being Lady Brayfield's charming daughters, for which I am grateful.

"But it is my wish that she leaves England for a while to travel--to
broaden her mind.  She is to accompany her aunt, who resides in London,
on a tour of Europe very soon.  She is to introduce Amanda into
society.  It will be good for her."

Trying hard not to show his wretched disappointment, Stephen paled and
swallowed hard.  "I see.  May I enquire as to how long she will be
gone?"

"Six months to a year, I think.  Maybe longer."


"I see," Stephen replied with stiff politeness.  "Then there is
nothing more to be said.  I bid you good day, Sir, and thank you for
sparing me a few moments of your valuable time."

On returning to Meadowfield Lodge, Stephen recounted his meeting with
Lord Kingsley.  His refusal to give his consent to an alliance between
Stephen and his sister made Rachel upset and consumed with a
disappointment that she could not quite analyse.  She considered Lord
Kingsley's treatment towards her brother to be harsh, indeed, and,
seeing the pain and hurt filling Stephen's eyes, her response was
immediate and one of anger.

"I have to say it, Stephen, but his refusal does not surprise me in the
slightest.  Lord Kingsley would not tarnish the ancient noble line of
Kingsleys with the blood of a commoner.  Was he impolite to you?"

"No.  Not in the least."

"Then, perhaps if he were not so sure of his position and himself, it
would have been a different matter entirely.  It would be interesting
to see how fast our proud neighbour would have consented to your
proposal if his family were not quite so wealthy."  She sighed, placing
her hand comfortingly about his waist with sisterly affection in an
attempt to banish the look of total dejection from his countenance.

"Do not be too downhearted, Stephen," she said gently.  "Who knows what
the future holds?  Why--if the love between yourself and Miss Kingsley
is as deeply committed as you say it is, then a trip to Europe is
hardly going to change her mind.  When Lord Kingsley sees this, and if
he cares for his sister

4n Illustrious Lord and can see that she will be happy with no other,
then maybe he will relent.  "

Rachel tried to sound reassuring, but her words lacked conviction.

Stephen made the.  effort to force a smile to his lips.  "I very much
doubt it---and I' believe you do, too."  He sighed deeply.  "Oh,
Rachel--you can have no conception of what it is like to lose the
person you love."

So lost was he in his own misery that he spoke without thinking,
forgetful that his sister's loss of Ralph Wheeler had been as great, if
not greater, than his own, which brought a painful stab to her heart.

Still smarting with wounded pride over Lord Kingsley's refusal to give
his consent for him to marry Amanda, filled with an aching, awful sense
of loss and unable to live at Meadowfield Lodge and not see his beloved
Amanda--and having no wish to attend his aunt Mary's party where he
would again have to face Lord Kingsley--Stephen left for

Seated beside her father in the carriage carrying them to Ellerton Hall
one week later to attend the supper party, Rachel regretted her
brother's decision not to attend, wishing he'd had the courage to stand
and face Lord Kingsley despite his refusal to allow him to marry his
sister.

Her father observed her closely, aware of how deeply Stephen's absence
affected her.  It was one of the reasons why he had struggled to
overcome his weak and weary state in order to accompany her to the
party.

"I am sorry Stephen is not with us," he said.

"So am I, Father.  Although I do believe we have Lord Kingsley to thank
for that."

Her father frowned.  "Come now, Rachel.  Do you have to be so inclined
to think the worst of him all the' time

"From what Stephen told me of his visit to Mortlake Park, Lord Kingsley
was in no way offensive and merely told him that any relationship
between him and Miss Kingsley must cease for the time being.  From
that, one can only conclude that he did not refuse his consent for
Stephen to marry his sister outright.  There is some hope for the
future.  I must say that you have developed an unreasonable dislike for
Lord Kingsley, Rachel."

"Not so unreasonable, Father," she countered.  "Not when you consider
the source of his wealth--which is an abomination in itself--and now
this insult and humiliation, not only to Stephen, but to our family as
a whole."

Her father sighed, shaking his head wearily.  "Oh, dear."  You do seem
to have a propensity to go through life determined to dislike all men,
my dear.  "

"No---not all men," Rachel said, her eyes clouding with painful and
bitter memo fides "Only those who bear a resemblance to Ralph
Wheeler."

Her father patted her hand, knowing just how painful it was for her to
be reminded of her former love and how deeply hurt and humiliated she
had been by his rejection of her.  "I know, my dear," he said gently,
'and I know just how much he hurt you---but Lord

Kingsley in no way resembles Ralph.  Try to be a little more tolerant
towards him, will you?  "

She smiled, squeezing his hand gently.  "Yes--I will try."

"And whatever your feelings happen to be on the matter of his
wealth--let us not make an issue of it.  And, you know, Lord Kingsley
may have just reasons not to give his consent for Stephen to marry his
sister--and it is not for us to enquire into them.  Why---had Miss
Kingsley been my own daughter I, too, might have refused.  She is
young, after all, and a trip around Europe with her aunt will do her
the world of good."

"Then why not with her own mother?  Do you 'not think it strange,
Father, that no one ever sees her?"

"No, not in the least; it is no secret that Miss Kingsley's mother does
not enjoy the best of health.  But, Rachel," he said with a note of
gentle warning, frowning and looking quite stern, "I will not be on the
cross with Lord Kingsley.

"Knowing your low opinion of him and how quickly your temper is roused,
I will not have you being unpleasant to him at my sister's party
tonight--or at any other time, come to that.  You will behave in the
manner in which you were raised.  Let good manners and common sense
prevail.  You will be charm and politeness personified.  Is that
understood?"

His eyes looked directly into his daughter's, with a note of authority
in his tone that he had often used in the past, but she had not heard
in a long time since his illness had taken hold; it left her in no
doubt as to his meaning.  He was telling her there would be no long
faces, no unladylike behaviour, and no words of recrimination or
outraged family pride if she were to find herself in the company of
Lord Kingsley.

"Yes, Father," she acquiesced softly, a slow flush tinting her cheeks
as she lowered her eyes, giving no indication of the turbulence the
prospect of meeting Lord Kingsley was having on her emotions.

The sun was declining when they reached Ellerton Hall, a warm breeze
heralding the first breath of summer.  The elegant house was set on a
slight rise above water meadows on the edge of the town.  A cavalcade
of carriages carrying local dignitaries filed up the drive, depositing
their dazzling occupants at the bottom of a short flight of Steps.

Dressed in emerald green satin, with diamonds at her throat and her
hair arranged in a mass of silver-grey curls, Lady Brayfield, supported
by her brother, Rachel's father--who felt able to do so received her
guests.

Lady Brayfield was of medium height, slender and regal looking, with
warm brown eyes and a welcoming smile, Who loved entertaining.  Her two
daughters, Caroline and Emily, excitement lighting up their faces at
the prospect of the long evening ahead of them, hovered behind her.

They were lively young ladies of' similar stature.  Caroline, the
eldest and darker than Emily, was dressed fetchingly in
lavender-coloured silk, while her sister was dressed in white with
yellow trimmings.

Lady Brayfield enquired after Stephen and as usual avoided speaking of
Kitty.  She had been shocked and horrified by Kitty's decision to
become an actress, considering her behaviour to be totally
unacceptable.

It had scandalised the entire neighbourhood and she refused to speak of
her, being unable to forgive her complete disregard for the shame and
disgrace she had brought on her family.

In high spirits, Caroline and Emily claimed Rachel immediately,
whisking her away to enquire after Stephen, eagerly insisting on her
telling them everything that had taken place on his visit to Mortlake
Park to see Lord Kingsley.

The house was steadily filling up with guests, the atmosphere beginning
to take on a joyous atmosphere as people greeted each other.  Footmen
moved among them, offering refreshment; voices were harmonious, with
laughter rising above the conversation.  The hall and downstairs
reception rooms to be Used during the evening were decked with flowers
and the dining-room gleamed with brightness--of silver and crystal and
pristine white tablecloths.

Rachel, who had felt uneasy about the evening for days, was relieved to
find the party was larger than usual--about sixty guests in
all---because of the expected presence of Lord Kingsley.  Hopefully,
with so many people milling about, she would escape having to converse
with him.

He was the last to arrive, accompanied by Sir Edgar Mainwaring, who
immediately left his side to dance attendance upon Caroline---she had
become quite besotted by him after their meeting at Ellerton church.

Lord Kingsley entered Ellerton Hall with an air of utter assurance.
Highly conspicuous, he seemed oblivious to the ripple of curiositY and
excitement that swept among the already assembled guests, and the
admiring feminine glances and appreciative whispers behind unfurled
fans.

Exuding a strong masculinity few women could resist--and giving them
the impression he was a man of lusty, unashamed appetites--with merely
a look and a cynically humorous smile he had the ability to charm his
way into most of their rapidly beating hearts.

His tall and lean, yet athletic, stature had a splendour to it, with
which few other men in the room could compete.  Casually taking a glass
of wine from the tray of a passing footman, he moved among them with
ease, tall and exceedingly handsome in his black frock coat.  His neck
tie was dazzling white, as was his damask waistcoat, its raised satined
pattern catching the light from the many candles.

Rachel was quite unprepared for the way her heart gave a sudden leap,
and she could not prevent a certain excitement from sweeping over her,
making her realise that she was not as immune to his powerful masculine
personality as she had thoughL

All the other guests faded into the shadows beside him.  His presence
was like a positive force.  His glance idly swept the crowded room
until, drawn by her beauty, his eyes met hers, wide and direct.  There
was a cool impertinence on his face when he looked at her, his eyes
bold and black, with a twinkle of appraisal in their depths.  His lips
curved in a crooked smile.

Rachel caught her breath, and for a brief moment experienced the same
pleasurable feminine sensations as all the other women on whom he
bestowed his enigmatic gaze.  Scarcely aware of her actions, she

Illustrious Lord made a little curtsy as he inclined his head in her
direction, before dragging his eyes away and giving his hostess his
full attention.

The evening was far advanced when, after doing her utmost to avoid him,
they came face to face.  During a break in the dancing, and flushed
from dancing one of the country dances with an exuberant partner, she
had retired to a quiet part of the room and was fanning her glowing
cheeks, when suddenly he appeared in front of her.

She started violently, feeling her heartbeat quicken alarmingly.
Surprise registered in her eyes and there was a sharp intake of her
breath, but when the initial awkwardness of the shock of seeing him so
close wore off---and she resolved not to let him see how much his
presence disturbed her she favoured him with a little curtsy before
turning, about to walk away, but he halted her.

"Miss Fair Icy he said, having no intention of letting her escape so
easily.  Having observed her moment of discomposure at his sudden
appearance with an amused and satisfied eye, he would have to be blind
not to see the torrent of emotion he unleashed in her whenever they
met--and which she would, no doubt, hate him for.

He hadn't stopped thinking about her since he'd first seen her, when
she'd bestowed on him a look that had declared war.  But, he thought,
with cynical amusement, he didn't imagine for one moment it was going
to be war all the way between them .  though it was a fight he was
determined to Win knowing from many an impassioned experience that
neither of them would be dissatisfied with the outcome.

"Is it my imagination or are you trying to avoid me?"

Noticing how one of his dark brows arched and how his eyes glittered
down at her with derisive humour put Rachel instantly on the defensive,
and she fixed him with a cool stare, trying to ignore the aura of
confidence that surrounded him, the impact his closeness was having on
her, and how his potent masculine virility was making her feel
altogether too vulnerable.  When she spoke, she tried to sound
assertive, which wasn't easy, especially when she saw his lips curve in
a slow smile.

"Avoid you?  Now, why on earth would I do that?  Although for the life
of me I cannot think what we could possibly have to talk about," she
said, her voice strained, the promise she had made to her father
earlier to be charm and politeness personified in her dealings with
Lord Kingsley instantly forgotten.  She was angered by the way his dark
penetrating eyes provoked in her a welter of disturbing emotions that
threatened to discompose her completely

William had been an interested observer throughout the evening,
watching Rachel integrating herself in the dance--whether it was the
fast rhythm of a jig or the slower steps of a progressive country
dance.  He had found her pleasing to watch as she had smiled and had
talked to her partner when they had come together in the dance,
throwing back her head and laughing delightedly at something he had
said, the long slender column of her throat arching like the curved
white throat of a swan.

She had moved with a mysterious grace and a sensuality that had the
power to set a man's soul on fire, her eyes shining with a brilliance
like sunlight on water.  William thought how radiant she had looked;
how she had outshone every other woman in the room in her dress of deep
blue silk gauze--the same colour as her eyes that provided a
fluttering, floating effect, giving her a look of vulnerability.

That look was misleading, he thought with wry amusement, when he
remembered how he had experienced the volatile nature of her temper and
the quickness of her tongue at first hand.  But he wasn't deceived, for
he sensed that, hidden from the inquiring eyes of the world, was a soft
defenceless ness about her just waiting to be assailed

"Oh several things come to mind," he said lightly.  "I could begin by
telling you how charming you look."

"Thank you," Rachel replied with unsmiling resentment, snapping her fan
shut with a sharp click, 'but I suspect that flattery is not your
forte, Lord Kingsley.  Your sister is well, I hope?  "

"Yes, thank you.  She is very well."

"I am surprised not to see her here this evening.  The music and
dancing are quite exceptional and I know how she loves to dance."

"So she does, but she is in London with her aunt at present.  And your
brother?  He is not here either, I see."

"How observant you are, Lord Kingsley.  No, Stephen is also in London
on family business.  Your sister is to leave for the continent very
soon, I understand?"

"Yes, that is so."

"Then it is to be hoped that, when she returns to Mortlake, her ardour
for my brother will have cooled."

"Yes--let us hope so.  She is young she'll get over it."

"And if she doesn't?"  Rachel asked softly, directly, her eyes
challenging his.

William's handsome mouth became compressed and his expression
unreadable.  He fixed her with his imperious dark gaze and his tone was
measured when he answered her.  "We shall see.  It would seem that,
during my absence, they formed quite an attachment causing their
passions' for one another to dissolve any social distinctions which
should have applied.  Unfortunately, there was no one at Mortlake to
prevent the relationship from developing the way it did."

Once again Rachel's curiosity concerning Lady Kingsley, Amanda's
mother, was roused, but she declined to enquire as to why she had not
tried to halt the relationship.

"But it was all quite innocent," she said in defence of the couple.  "I
can see nothing wrong in two people forming a romantic attachment.  How
can you defend yourself on this matter?  Can you not put your sister's
happiness above your pride, Lord Kingsley?"

"I am not ashamed of what I have done, Miss Fair Icy and I do not feel
that I have to defend what I do to you or anyone.  My sister's
happiness is all important to me.  I would not hurt or distress her in
any way.  That is why I must make sure her choice of husband is the
right one."

"Her choice?"  Rachel exclaimed with slight emphasis.  "Or yours?  It
would seem to me that you consider my brother's connections too little
and his presumption too great.  Perhaps you are contemptuous of his
lack of rank---that because he does not spend his time in leisure or
possess a title, then he does not possess the proper credentials
required to be considered a gentleman."

"You have formed a harsh opinion of me, Miss Fairley.  However, your
assessment of my character means little to me--and the things you speak
of bear little truth."

"Then I am puzzled."

"Puzzled!  Do forgive me.  I would not wish to be the cause of any
discomfort you might feel.  My reasons for refusing to consent to an
alliance between your brother and my sister are not open to
discussion."

"But you do oppose the match?"

"Naturally I oppose it--although it may surprise you that it affords me
little pleasure.  My sister is but seventeen years old."

"And for that reason you will not consent to their marriage?"

"No--since you ask.  Not entirely for that reason."

"Then recollecting the conversation I happened to overhear between
yourself and Sir Edgar at the inn on our first encounter how you spoke
of actresses with such severe censure-could it be that you know of my
own sister's involvement in the profession?

"Let me see," she said, making a pretence of trying to remember his
exact words when all the while she could recite every one of them by
heart, so indelibly were they printed in her mind, "I believe you said
that the vulgarity of their profession bars them from any
respectability--that they cavort with every member of the audience and
shamelessly exhibit themselves for money."

A spark ignited in the dark-depths of William's eyes and his black
brows knit together.  "It is clear you have a remarkable memory, Miss
Fair Icy and I would be lying ill retracted anything I said that
day."

"Dear me.  Poor Stephen.  With a sister belonging to such an unworthy,
disreputable profession, he is hardly good social material.  It would
seem there is too much against him to be considered a suitable match
for your-sister.  Although--I have to say that, from what I have come
to know of her, she does not share your prejudice, sir."

Rachel had hoped to shock Lord Kingsley with her forthrightness, but he
gave no sign of being disturbed by her words in the slightest.  His
eyes, full of disdain, remained fixed on hers.

"It seems to me, Miss Fair Icy that it is you who are prejudiced, for I
do not remember uttering one word in condemnation of your family's
situation--it is none of my concern, in any case."

"No, you did not have to.  Your manner and expression on being
introduced to my brother outside the church in Ellerton were far more
eloquent than any words you might have uttered."

"I think you do me an injustice, Miss Fair Icy You seem to have formed
a firm opinion of my character before having acquainted yourself with
me.  However, I am flattered to learn that you have spared any of your
time to think of me."

"Don't be.  I have long been acquainted with your character by those
who have described you."

"To my merit?"

"So you would hope---but quite the contrary, l assure you.  Nothing I
have heard regarding your character has been agreeable, Lord
Kingsley."

'l must say, Miss Fairley, that you seem well opinionated on the
imperfections of my character--and I am not ashamed to admit that I
have many faults.  But .  perhaps if you were to take the time to look
into your own character instead of examining mine, then you might find
that your own faults far outweigh my own.  "

He stepped back just as the music was starting up again and couples
were beginning to assemble on the floor.  "I shall detain you no
longer; it is plain that my presence clearly offends you.  Excuse me,
Miss Fairley."

Rachel watched him walk away, hoping she would never have to speak to
him again, for each meeting was like open combat between them--a clash
of wills that only inflamed her smouldering resentment for him.

Her cousin Emily came to stand beside her, watching his retreating
figure with such calf-like admiring eyes that she failed to notice
Rachel's angry discomposure caused by her altercation with Lord
Kingsley.

"Oh, Rachel," she said breathlessly, holding her heart with her
clenched hand.  "When I heard Mother had invited Lord Kingsley to the
party, I very nearly died.  How I wish he would dance with me, but he
has not danced the whole evening."

"Perhaps that is because Lord Kingsley does not care to dance, Emily."
"Maybe if I were as beautiful as you, Rachel, then he would have asked
me--but !  would have seemed so silly to him."

"Nonsense, Emily," said Rachel, looking at her cousin with smiling
fondness, despite the anger still beating in her heart.  "Lord Kingsley
does not know what he has missed by not asking you to dance."

"Is he not a fine gentleman--and so handsome?"

"Yes," she admitted absently, watching as he paused to speak to her
father.  They had been introduced to each other earlier in the evening
and, she had observed, they had already been involved in a lengthy
discussion.  "He is very handsome, although I suppose being the proud
owner of Mortlake Park and one of the richest men in the country makes
him seem more attractive."

"You must be on the best of terms--otherwise he Would not have talked
to you for so long."

"There you are mistaken, Emily.  It is just the opposite, in fact. Lord
Kingsley and I are not on the best of terms.  We do not get on." She
sighed deeply, wondering why she felt so deflated all of a sudden. She
spoke so softly that Emily almost didn't hear her.  "We do not get on
at all."

"Then you can count yourself the only one--for there isn't a woman in
the whole of Ellerton who would not die for a single rendezvous with
such a charming man."

Rachel looked at her with condescension.  "Charms he might have,
Emily--and it is clear from the rapturous effect he has on you and
every other lady in the room that he is well practised in their
arts--but I find him all arrogance and conceit, and altogether too full
of himself."

Noticing that he left the room with her father, who was bearing up to
the evening better than she had anticipated, she turned away sharply,
irritated by the enjoyment they clearly derived from each other's
company and wondering what they could possibly have in common that
allowed them to get on so well.


Chapters Four

The days following the party at Ellerton Hall found Rachel in low
spirits.  She was restless and dejected, which she put down to
Stephen's absence and Mr.  Nolan's imminent departure although, since
making the acquaintance of Lord Kingsleynd the disquieting effect he
had on her emotions and sensibilities of late Mr.  Nolan's passionate
outpourings on matters of public concern did not hold her attention
quite so much. In fact, never had her thoughts been in such confusion. 
Whenever she remembered the bitterness of her conversation with Lord
Kingsley at Ellerton Hall, she felt a stirring of regret that she had
been so outspoken and had behaved in an undignified and unladylike
manner in the company of a gentleman with whom she was hardly
acquainted.  Her dejection could also be put down to a letter she had
received from Kitty, a letter which held disheartening news which
concerned her greatly, for Kitty wrote that she was feeling extremely
unwell of late. Reading between the lines, Rachel suspected there must
be something very wrong, for her sister had always enjoyed the best of
health and had never been one to complain.  She also remembered
thinking she did not look her usual exuberant self when she had last
seen her in London with Stephen and Harry.  Kitty begged Rachel not to
distress their father with this news and went on to say that there was
a matter she wished to discuss with her of some importance.  She urged
her to travel to London so that she might see her as soon as she was
able.  Puzzled as to why she should wish to see her and concerned by
the urgency of her request, Rachel was determined to go as soon as it
could be arranged.  Her aunt Mary was to take Caroline and Emily to
London very soon and she hoped her father would permit her to go with
them.

She was alone in the house, her father and Harry.  having gone into
Ellerton on an errand, when one of the maids came to inform her that
Lord Kingsley had arrived and was asking to see her father.  Rachel's
heart gave a leap of surprise and, she had to admit, a certain delight,
not having seen him since her aunt Mary's party at Ellerton Hall three
weeks ago.  Although why she should feel such tremulous delight when
she remembered their last ill-fated meeting--and all she held against
him--riled her with bewilderment.  Nor could she escape the
overpowering effect he seemed to have on her whenever they met, which
increased at their every meeting, or the fact that, where he was
concerned, her emotions were all at war within her.

She rose from where she had been sitting and writing a letter to Kitty,
smoothing her skirts with slightly trembling fingers as she watched him
enter, her face set in cool, but not unfriendly, reserve as she forced
herself to ignore the churning inside her.

William's eyes never faltered from her face as he crossed towards her
calmly, bowing his dark head with innate graciousness, his expression
devoid of any of the ill humour that Rachel had come to associate with
him.

She was wearing a simple low-necked dress of apple green, her dark hair
hanging loose.  There was a demure, almost virginal appearance about
her pale features, and a quiet beauty and innocence in the luminosity
of her wide blue eyes.

"I came to see your father, Miss Fair Icy he said, when he looked down
into the clear depths of her eyes, thinking there was little wonder he
was attracted by her, 'but I understand he is not at home."

"No, he-he's gone into Ellerton with Harry, Lord Kingsley, although I
expect him to return at any time, should you wish to wait."  She moved
towards a chair, discomfited by his closeness, feeling altogether too
vulnerable beneath the directness of his gaze and experiencing its full
power and provocation.

"Thank you.  I am happy to find he is well enough to get about.  I
understand he does not enjoy the best of health."

"No--sadly, that is so.  His weak heart gives us all cause for concern.
Can I send for some refreshment while you wait?"  she offered when they
were seated opposite each other.  '

"No no, thank you.  Please, do not trouble your self.  I apologise for
calling uninvited, but I chanced to be riding this way and thought I
might have a word with your father on a certain matter."

"Of course.  I--I'm glad you called, Lord Kingsley," she said
hesitantly, meeting his eyes unwillingly, finding the moment one of
awkwardness as she prepared, as graciously as possible, to apologise
for her behaviour on their previous encounter.

"Oh!"  His face inscrutable, William leaned back in his chair and
looked into her tense face, quietly waiting on her words.

"Yes--you--you see, it gives me the opportunity to apologise to you for
my behaviour when we last met at Ellerton Hall.  I was too outspoken.
It was quite wrong of me and I should not have said the things I
did."

"Please do not feel the need to apologise, Miss Fair Icy he said with a
faint smile and a touch of gallantry.  " I also said some things I
regret for which I, too, apologise.  "

Rachel could feel the colour rising in her cheeks as she dropped her
eyes; although his expression was grave, his eyes were as teasing as a
small boy's.  It was with a feeling of relief when, at that moment,
there was the sound of a commotion out in the hall, of someone lifting
a heavy object down the stairs.  William glanced at Rachel enquiringly
and she smiled.

"Do not be alarmed, Lord Kingsley," she said.  "The commotion you hear
is Mr.  Nolan bringing his trunk down the stairs."

"Mr.  Nolan?"

"My brother Harry's tutor.  Sadly, he is leaving us today."

"To take up another tutorial post?"

"No--I think not.  He---he has always been interested in public
affairs--I suppose it is inevitable that he will eventually be drawn
into politics."

"Is he to leave for London?"

"No.  Yorkshire.  His home is in Hull.  He---he is a close associate of
Mr.  Wilberforce.  Have you heard of him, Lord Kingsley?"  she asked
purposefully, watching his reaction to her question," asked in a casual
manner, carefully; but, apart from a slight tightening of his jaw, his
expression remained unchanged.

"There are few who have not heard of the illustrious Member of
Parliament for Yorkshire, Miss Fairley.  I believe he has been asked by
the Abolition Society to take up the cause for the fight against the
slave trade."

"Yes, so I have heard.  It is a subject you should understand well,
Lord Kingsley---owning a plantation in the West Indies and being a
Slave owner yourself."

"That is correct," he admitted without any sign of embarrassment.
"Being an acquaintance of Mr.  Wilberforce, I suppose Mr.  Nolan shares
his views?"

"Yes.  Mr.  Nolan is an intelligent, responsible gentleman who deeply
disapproves of slavery and has strong feelings about the cause."

"You, too, it would seem, Miss Fair Icy No doubt all your information
comes from the knowledgeable Mr.  Nolan."

"Of course, and it is through his teachings that i have been able to
form my own opinion on the subject."

He nodded slowly.  "You have a right to your opinion---however
misguided it may be."

"Misguided?  No--I do not think so."  Rachel bristled, annoyed because
he clearly thought she was easily influenced.  "Slavery is an
abominable practice and should be abolished.  To make one's fortune
based on something as evil as slavery is quite indefensible.  Does it
not bother you living off the oppression and misery of others, Lord
Kingsley?"

"The opinions of others do not bother me unduly, Miss Fairley, and it
would seem that your values are greater than mine--and others who
belong to the aristocracy with plantations in the West Indies."

He sat perfectly still and spoke as calmly as his emotions would
permit---as if he were discussing nothing more serious than the
weather, but each was aware of the tense undercurrents vibrating
between them.  Rachel's instinct, and his expression, told her it would
take very little to turn his indolence.  to anger, but she refused to
be deflected.

"You are not alone, I do know that.  A great number of the aristocracy
build their magnificent mansions--designed by only the finest
architects--living a civi-!ised life as all nobles and peers understand
it--while the slaves who work their plantations in the West Indies
struggle in what can only be described as some kind of jungle for
survival."

"It would seem the affairs of your own family are hardly a well-kept
garden, Miss Fairley," he replied drily.  "I would not attempt to
defend slavery, and, regrettable though it is, it is a fact as well as
an exercise in human failing that most of the leisured classes enjoy
their standard of living by exactions on others.  But do not forget
that, here in England, the lot of industrial workers is as bad as
anything that can be found on the plantations in the West Indies.

"I hardly think you are in a position to preach to me on the way I
conduct my family's affairs or on the evils of slavery--when your own
family obtains its wealth from the exploitation of children as young as
five years old, who work down the coal mines and in the textile mills
being built with incredible speed in the north.  "

"I very much doubt that.  There is a difference."

"And you are certain of that, are you?  Have you seen for yourselF'

"No--I--l--' she faltered.

"Well there you are, then."

"But there is a difference," Rachel persisted, irritated by the smug
tone of his voice and the curl of his lips, which she thought resembled
a sneer rather than a smile.  "The people who work in the coal mines
are legally free to do as they choose.  They are not beaten or whipped.
Slavery is an abominable practice and should be abolished."

"And what would be the solution in your opinion?  At the moment, the
Anti-Slavery Movement is too weak to overcome the system."

"It will not always be that way.  The argument should be carried
through the press and any other means to attract public opinion."

"And what then?  Do not forget that the trade is a legitimate form of
commerce that only an Act of Parliament can put an end to."

"Then Parliament must be lobbied."

William sighed, vexed by her propensity to argue whenever they met.
"I'm afraid it is not that simple, Miss Fairley, and," he said, getting
up from where he sat and going to stand by the window, letting his gaze
travel beyond the garden towards the river which threaded its way
through the very heart of Ellerton, 'l do not intend arguing on the
moral aspects of it just now not on so fine a day as this.  "

He turned and looked at her.  "I wonder if, while I am waiting for your
father to return from Ellerton, you would walk with me through your
garden to the river?"

"Why--I--I--' she faltered, taken completely by surprise.  She was
weak, suddenly, at a loss to know what to say and she wondered why, for
she was usually in command of herself.

"Do you like walking?"

"Why--yes--I enjoy walking very much.  It is a healthy exercise--but
I--I don't know if I should."

"If you are afraid that your reputation is in danger of being ruined
should you be seen walking alone with me, then do not be concerned.
From the house, the river is only a short walk beyond the garden, and
there are windows enough for your servants to keep you in view at all
times to ensure I do not compromise you."

Rachel smiled, beginning to warm a little towards him now he was not
quite so formal.  "It is considerate of you to be so concerned for my
reputation, Lord Kingsley."

His dark eyes twinkled merrily.  "I am well aware that once a young
woman's reputation is lost it can exercise in human failing that most
of the leisured classes enjoy their standard of living by exactions on
others.  But do not forget that, here in England, the lot of industrial
workers is as bad as anything that can be found on the plantations in
the West Indies.

"I hardly think you are in a position to preach to me on the way I
conduct my family's affairs or on the evils of slavery--when your own
family obtains its wealth from the exploitation of children as young as
five years old, who work down the coal mines and in the textile mills
being built with incredible speed in the north.  "

"I very much doubt that.  There is a difference."

"And you are certain of that, are you?  Have you seen for yourself?."

"No--I--I----' she faltered.

"Well there you are, then."

"But there is a difference," Rachel persisted, irritated by the smug
tone of his voice and the curl of his lips, which she thought resembled
a sneer rather than a smile.  "The people who work in the coal mines
are legally free to do as they choose.  They are not beaten or whipped.
Slavery is an abominable practice and should be abolished."

"And what would be the solution in your opinion?  At the moment, the
Anti-Slavery Movement is too weak to overcome the system."

"It will not always be that way.  The argument should be carried
through the press and any other means to attract public opinion."

"And what then?  Do not forget that the trade is a legitimate form of
commerce that only an Act of Parliament can put an end to."

"Then Parliament must be lobbied."

William sighed, vexed by her propensity to argue whenever they met.
"I'm afraid it is not that simple, Miss Fairley, and," he said, getting
up from where he sat and going to stand by the window, letting his gaze
travel beyond the garden towards the fiver which threaded its way
through the very heart of Ellerton, "I do not intend arguing on the
moral aspects of it just now not on so fine a day as this."

He turned and looked at her.  "I wonder if, while I am waiting for your
father to return from Ellerton, you would walk with me through your
garden to the fiver?"

"Why--I--I--' she faltered, taken completely by surprise.  She was
weak, suddenly, at a loss to know what to say and she wondered why, for
she was usually in command of herself.

"Do you like walking?"

"Why--yes--I enjoy walking very much.  It is a healthy exercise-but
I--I don't know if I should."

"If you are afraid that your reputation is in danger of being mined
should you be seen walking alone with me, then do not be concerned.
From the house, the fiver is only a short walk beyond the garden, and
there are windows enough for your servants to keep you in view at all
times to ensure I do not compromise you."

Rachel smiled, beginning to warm a little towards him now he was not
quite so formal.  "It is considerate of you to be so concerned for my
reputation, Lord Kingsley."

His dark eyes twinkled merrily.  "I am well aware that once a young
woman's reputation is lost it can never be retrieved, Miss Fairley."

"Then my reputation must be protected at all cost.  l shall see to it
that Mrs.  Armstrong, our housekeeper, does not let me out of her sight
for a moment."

"Does that mean you agree to walk with me?"  "How can I refuse?"

"Then that is settled.  However, before we leave the house, there is
one thing I must ask of you."

"Oh?"

"That we declare a truce.  Agreed?"

His eyes were gently enquiring and Rachel was intrigued by this
confounding man.  Never had She met a man who perplexed her more.  He
smiled and she felt her own mouth begin to follow, feeling her
antipathy towards him start to melt.  The arrogance she had come to
know so well was gone.  However, suspecting this to be only a temporary
state of affairs, 'she was determined to make the most of it.

Still smiling she nodded.  "Yes, it is agreed."

It was not without a certain pleasure that Rachel accompanied Lord
Kingsley down to the river.  He was' in a thoughtful mood as they
walked along a wide sunny path flanked with high laurels and
rhododendrons, flowering generously in rich, lush colours of purple,
white and brilliant red.

They reached the sun-splattered river, which tumbled over its rocky
bed.  Along its way to Ellerton, small tributaries left the main flow
to feed the lake in the grounds of Mortlake Park.  Birds were
industriously nesting in the trees; the gnarled branches reached out
over the water, some so low their leaves brushed the surface, the
glancing drops of water catching sparkling, dancing crystal clear
prisms of light.

They paused on the rise of the old stone bridge, the silence inhabited
only by the flowing Water tumbling over stones and disappearing beneath
the narrow arch.

William leaned indolently against the low wall of the bridge and looked
at Rachel, the sun shining on his bare head.  He was a man not
unaccustomed to the attractions of a beautiful woman, having admired
and loved many in a casual way--and because of his looks and his
immense wealth he had never had to work very hard at getting them to
part with their favours, for those assets alone made him desirable to
them.

But he had never been impressed with emotions of the heart.  Romantic
love was something he was unaccustomed to, for never had he met a woman
who had impressed him with her intellect, wit and dignity, a woman who
possessed an equal agility of mind to his own enough to make him want
to spend the rest of his life with her.  But that was before he had met
Rachel Fair Icy

For the first time in his life he found himself responding to a woman's
intelligent individuality, making him both captivated and
intrigued--although she had made it quite plain from the outset that in
her opinion there were certain unfavorable aspects to his character
that did not endear him to her in the slightest.

However, he did not believe this for one moment and felt that her
demure, almost prim exterior hid a woman of passion.  She drew him like
a magnet.  He wanted her, despite the cool reserve she always adopted
whenever they were together, which, he suspected, was her way of
fending off predatory males.

He meant to capture her, to turn this calm, proper young lady into a
tantalising creature of desire, who, when aruused, would breath a
sensuality she was not even aware of, to take her to the very heights
of passion.

He studied her profile as she looked down at the river.  Her dark hair
rippled and lifted in the gentle breeze, and he found himself imagining
how it would feel to run his fingers through the silken strands.
Sensing his eyes on her, she turned and met his gaze and smiled, her
teeth gleaming white between her softly parted lips.

"So," he said at length, 'your father will have to find another tutor
for your brother?  "

"No, we are done with tutors.  Harry is to go to school.  I believe
Father is considering sending him to Harrow."

"Ah my old Alma Mater," he said.  "I have fond memories of my own
schooldays spent at Harrow.  And what of you?  I suspect you will miss
Mr.  Nolan and his excellent mind," he said, with slight ironic
emphasis on the last two words.

"An excellent mind is not the only aspect of Mr.  Nolan's character I
shall miss when he leaves us."

William arched a sleek black brow quizzically.  "Then I would say that
youth--and maybe romance---has coloured your perceptions."

His voice was low and seductive, yet not without a hint of teasing. His
dark eyes were persuasive and compelling and he was standing close, so
close, that

Rachel!  s eyes were drawn to his as sunlight played lazily about them.
"

"Romance!"  She smiled, a slow, teasing smile, while giving him a
sidelong glance from beneath her lashes, thrusting away an image of
Ralph as he intruded into her thoughts--Ralph, who had issued words of
love and words to betray.  Her father was right--Lord Kingsley did not
resemble Ralph in any sense.  His tone was light, teasing, almost, and
she was surprised to discover that she did not mind, that she was
flattered by it, in fact.

The gentle, flirtatious play with words was quite new to her and, for
the first time in over two years, she found herself warming to the
attentions of man again, a handsome man, with wickedly dancing dark
eyes, and she wanted to savour all the delights she had denied herself
for so long.  "I did not say anything about romance, Lord Kingsley."

"No--but you must have encountered such a weakening state of affairs,
surely?"

"Not that I've noticed.  But you must have encountered it yourself to
describe its effects.  And if, as you say, it has such a debilitating
effect on one, then I must strive to remain in control of my emotions
at all times and keep my eyes wide open."

William suppressed a smile.  "Are you usually so forthright, Miss
Faifiey?"

"Yes.  Does it offend you?  Would you prefer it if I were all simpers
and smiles like my cousins Caroline and Emily?"

"Heaven forbid."  He laughed.  "Now that is not in your nature.  But
you will miss your brother's tutor, will you not?"

"Yes, I shall.  I shall miss his friendship but--not as much as he
misses my sister."

"The one treading the boards at Dmry Lane?"

"Yeshe same."

"And how does it affect you having a sister belonging to such a
notorious profession?"

"Many families in our situation would see it as a disgrace but neither
I nor any member of my immediate family see it that way--except for
Aunt Mary, who has refused to speak of her ever again.  In fact, I
rather envy my sister her freedom.  Her profession we have never tried
to conceal--and how it is viewed by others is a matter for them," she
said firmly and with meaning, meeting his gaze squarely, for she
already knew of his low opinion where actresses were concerned.

"Mr.  Nolan admired Kitty a great deal and was quite devastated when
she left.  Which, I suspect, is why he is returning to Hull."

"Then perhaps you should go with him," William said, his firm-lips
curving in a teasing smile, hoping to steer the conversation away from
the subject of her sister's profession, for he had no wish to become
embroiled in another heated discussion.  "With your strong mind and
firm opinions, you would no doubt prove to be quite an asset to Mr.
Wilberforce."

"Unfortunately, there are those who would not be so tolerant of a woman
playing the political game, Lord Kingsley-even those among my own sex
who do not share my radical views."

"And how radical are you?"

"In an ideal world I could be as radical as I please," she said,
laughing exquisitely, unconsciously, 'but unfortunately this is not an
ideal world, Lord Kingsley.  I have to say that my father--who is open
minded in many things---considers it right and proper that girls should
be well educated, which is why he always employed the best governesses
for Kitty and myself.

"Unfortunately, women who have had a good education and are
accomplished in languages and mathematics are generally frowned upon
and deprecated if they try to assume independence---or show any
ambition other than how to excel at needlework and manners in order to
make themselves fit for marriage."

"Do not undervalue your sex.  There are many strong-minded women of
this age who are not afraid to stand up and be counted.  You are a
clever woman, Miss Fairley, and in my opinion a clever woman can do
almost anything she puts her mind to."  .

"And achieve nothing but ridicule from both sexes, I shouldn't wonder,"
she smiled, her eyes bright and her cheeks glowing.

"It would take a brave man to ridicule you, Miss Fairley.  A brave man
indeed."

His voice was smooth, almost like the finest silk.  He looked at her
for a long moment and then he smiled, a wonderfully engaging smile,
making their previous altercations suddenly seem petty and small.
Without knowing it Rachel had become vulnerable and approachable--which
was what he had intended, for he had succeeded in lightening a dark
corner in some unknown part of her mind, causing something to stir.

Her eyes, vividly blue in the sunlight, looked into his, intrigued by
this strange and open conversation they were having, but hastily,
almost shyly, she averted her gaze, her cheeks burning, perplexed and
quite astonished by her own bewildering thoughts.

Her father and Harry had returned from Ellerton and, being informed by
one of the servants that Lord Kingsley had come to call and was at that
moment outside with Miss Rachel, Harry immediately came in search of
them as they were about to walk back to the house.

He came running along the path and almost immediately Lord Kingsley
began telling him all about Harrow and his own days spent there as a
schoolboy.  Quite unfazed by the rank and importance of Lord Kingsley,
Harry listened with enthusiasm, his eyes wide with interest.

They sauntered back to the house where George Fair Icy met them in the
hall.  Thanking Lord Kingsley for a pleasant walk, Rachel left them
alone and went upstairs to her room, strongly stirred by emotions she
was finding extremely difficult to ignore.

She found the softening to Lord Kingsley's nature both puzzling and
enlightening, and could not for the life of her think what had brought
about this transformation.  Had she misjudged him?  she asked herself,
because for the first time she had had a glimpse of a different person
beneath that cool, arrogant exterior.

He had been unusually charming towards her on their walk, which was
strange after their previous, caustic encounters, and she found herself
softening towards him even when she brought to mind his involvement
with his family's sugar plantation in the West Indies, worked by
African slaves, from which he derived much of his wealth.

His harsh refusal to consent to a marriage between her brother and his
sister, which Rachel firmly believed he did because he considered the
Fairleys' situation in life inferior to his own---she found this latest
discovery clouded the initial judgement she had formed as to the nature
of his character.

Rachel was puzzled as to why Lord Kingsley had come to Meadowfield
Lodge to see her father, who was in no hurry to enlighten her as to the
reason, even though he was quietly aware of her curiosity.  It was when
they were sitting quietly after their evening meal, after the departure
of Mr.  Nolan for his native Yorkshire and when Harry had gone up to
his room, that he spoke to her from behind the newspaper he was
immersed in.

"So, Rachel, how did you get on with Lord Kingsley this afternoon." "

She looked up from the book she was reading.  "Well enough, I suppose,
considering the unpleasantness of our previous encounters.  In fact, he
was polite and quite charming, which I have to say I found puzzling."

"Good.  I'm glad to hear it.  Considering every young woman in Ellerton
swoons at a mere glance of him did such intimate contact not raise any
romantic thoughts in that head of yours."

"

"Father!"  Rachel chided in a shocked tone, looking towards where he
sat, although she was unable to see any of his features other than the
top of his silver head above the sheets of the newspaper.

"Now don't sound so missish.  Why should you be any different to all
the other young ladies?  It is a known fact among them that Lord
Kingsley is quite the handsomest man in the district.  It isn't right
to have your head set against him in this manner.

"Is it that business over Stephen and his sister that still upsets you?
Or is it that you are still smarting over your affair with Ralph
Wheeler-refusing to let a gentleman get close to you again lest he
treat you in the same despicable manner?"

Rachel looked at her father sharply.  "I no longer think of Ralph in
the romantic sense, Father---and it is not that I refuse to become
close to any other man--it is that I am reluctant to do so in fear of
being hurt a second time," she said, not wishing to raise her father's
hopes by telling him she might be about to have a change of heart where
Lord Kingsley was concerned.  An invisible thread had appeared between
them, invisible and fragile, drawing them together in a way that
astonished and bewildered her, and until she was able to sort out her
confusing thoughts, then, that was how it would remain.

"And, of course," she went on, 'knowing how hurt Stephen is feeling,
naturally it upsets me.  But that is not the only reason.  You know I
do not endorse the way Lord Kingsley makes his money to maintain his
grand house and life style.  "

"I see," he said, lowering his newspaper and looking across at her.
"And you told him that, did you?"

"Why, yes, I did."

"Then I can only hope you were not too outspoken.  Faced with
determination such as yours, Lord

Kingsley would not have a prayer.  And what did he say?  "

"Very little."

"Well I hope you allowed the poor man to defend-himself?."

"Of course.  But he said nothing in his own defence.  In fact, he.
refused to be drawn on the issue, only to liken it to the industrial
workers' plight here in England, implying they had much in common with
the African slaves."

"Did he now?  Well---he may have a point, you know.  The lot of the
workers in the coal mines and in many more industries can be as cruel
as it is on any of the plantations in the West Indies.  The profits
from the cultivation of sugar are much greater than any other
cultivation in Europe and America so one cannot blame the planters for
defending it."

He paused, thoughtful for a moment, and when he continued his voice was
serious.

"I hope you did not behave in an impertinent and presumptuous manner,
Rachel, for if you did then I am sure, Lord Kingsley would have been
too much of a gentleman to contradict you in your own home.  However,"
he said with a sudden mischievous twinkle in his eye, again lifting his
newspaper, "I find it strange that he did not make his opinions on the
issue of slavery known to you."

Rachel stared across at him in bewilderment.  "Why--what can you mean,
Father?"  she asked, beginning to feel distinctly uneasy that he was
about to tell her something concerning Lord Kingsley that she did not
know.

"Only that his views regarding the plantation system are not much
different from your own.  Lord Kingsley is seriously considering
selling his plantation on Barbados, and he came to see me today to pick
my brains regarding investments in industry here in England."

Rachel's eyes widened in undisguised astonishment and a wave of colour
flooded her face.  She stared at him, unable to move.  "He---he
what?"

At last her father put down his newspaper and smiled placidly.  "Oh
dear.  It seems this has come as something of a shock.  Are you all
right, my dear?."

"Yes--yes, of course," she said, her voice sounding unsteady, for she
was unable to think straight---so confused were her thoughts just then.
"But why did he not tell me this?  Oh, Father---I feel such a fool. But
why is he selling his plantation?  Why, if, as you say, the profits
from the cultivation of sugar are so immense?"

"Why should he uphold a system he does not agree with that goes against
his conscience?  He, too, wants to see the end of slavery---with .a
dedication and passion that would surprise even you.  After all, he
does have first-hand knowledge of it.

"But, tell me, Rachel," he said, watching her expression closely as she
struggled to come to terms with what he had just divulged, 'how do you
feel about him now you know he is not what you thought him to be--now
the man you thought ofas your enemy has revealed himself to be your
friend?  Not quite the ogre you once thought, eh?  "

"No, perhaps not," she confessed reluctantly.  "But I still have some
reservations.  However, I have to say that I do not look forward to our
next meeting."

tn Illustrious Lord "In my view, the only way you can redeem yourself
is to apologise--although it will have to wait; he is preparing to
leave for London within the next few days."

"Apologise?"

"Yes," he said, smiling as he folded his newspaper.  "Although, just
think, perhaps he might refuse to accept it.  considering your harsh
opinion of him.  And I'm sure you deserve it.  However, Lord Kingsley
is a gentleman and I am certain he will forgive you graciously."

In her room later that evening, Rachel stared moodily at her reflection
in her dressing-table mirror as she still battled to come to 'terms
with what her father had told her concerning Lord Kingsley.  She had
always believed first impressions to be important and from the very
first moment she had set eyes on him he had not impressed her in the
slightest--until today.

All that she'd held against him, she now realised, had been founded on
nothing more than gossip and, she was forced to admit, she was
beginning to feel very foolish and somewhat ashamed of her assertions.
How could she have accused him so readily when she had so little to
furnish the evidence?

But when she remembered their conversation when he' had come to call on
her father that very day, why, when they had discussed the issue of
slavery, had he not told her of his own revulsion for the trade?  Why
had he let her chatter on in a somewhat accusing and superior manner
about the injustice of it?

Unless, she thought, with a stirring of anger, he had smugly refrained
from telling her so he could enjoy her humiliation and embarrassment,
for he would know how foolish she would feel when she found out.

Her father had asked her how she felt now he was no longer her enemy,
but her friend.  Well, how did she feel?  she asked herself.  How could
she answer that question?  When she remembered the way it had been
between them down by the fiver, of the intimacy of the conversation
they had shared, when, for the first time since their acquaintance
there had been no rancour between them, then at that moment the issue
of slavery was far from Rachel's thoughts.

Looking back, she remembered how their conversation had been almost
flirtatious and she knew it was pleasure she had felt at being in his
company--pleasure and something else, something she did not recognise,
for it was so dissimilar to anything she had felt about him before.

She trembled slightly, feeling the blood pumping strongly through her
heart when she remembered the unique power of his dark eyes, which had
remained fastened on hers the whole time, as if reading her inner most,
most intimate thoughts.

Afraid of the weakening she felt within her when dwelling too long on
his image, firmly fixed in her mind, which she now realised was
stronger than anything she had felt for Ralph, she quickly blew out the
candle on her dressing table, certain of one thing as she crossed to
her bed---she and Lord Kingsley could never be friends in the ordinary
sense of the word.

Chapter Five

With reluctance Rachel had to admit that her father was right.  The
correct and decent thing to do was to apologise to Lord Kingsley for
having elected to judge him so readily and so wrOngly.  However,
knowing that he was to leave for London shortly, she was relieved that
she would not have to face him just yet.  She intended leaving for the
city herself with her aunt Mary and her cousins, but considered it
unlikely they would meet.

However, the little comfort she had derived from anticipating that
their next meeting would be later rather than sooner and thinking to
delay her offer of an apology was wasted, for along with her father and
aunt Mary and her cousins she was invited to dine at Mortlake Park
before Lord Kingsley and Sir Edgar Mainwaring left for London.

No matter how she struggled to find a suitable excuse to get out of
going, she had to resign herself to it; there was no way out that she
could think of.  She would have to go.

It was not the first time Rachel had seen Mortlake

Park, the grand country residence of the Kingsley family, but it was
the first time she had been invited to enter.  The house, with two
wings embracing a central court, was situated on the crest of a low
hill, and with its many turrets and courtyards it rose over the still
waters of the lake, presenting a stirring sight which could be seen all
over the surrounding countryside.

Rachel and her father--who was honoured to be invited to Mortlake Park
as Lord Kingsley's guest, and thankful he was well enough to accept,
having just endured a debilitating few days in bed---travelled to
Mortlake Park alone in their carriage, approaching over a graceful
bridge that spanned the narrowest part of the lake and proceeding up a
long curved drive to the front of the house.

The closer the carriage carried Rachel to Mortlake Park the more
vulnerable and weakened she became, feeling that this was very much
Lord Kingsley's territory, where he was master and reigned supreme.
Since their last meeting at Meadowfield Lodge, he had figured
persistently in her thoughts, and the closer she got to meeting him
again, the prospect brought on a fit of nervousness.

Liveried footmen assisted them out of the carriage and escorted them
into the house.  Unconsciously; Rachel's feet carried her forward.
Looking around her, she finally stood against the marble columns inside
the great hall, seeing a fine oak staircase rising from the centre to
form a gallery up above.  :

She was relieved to find other guests had arrived--ten or a dozen,
maybe more.  Some recognised as neighbours, among them her cousins

In Illustrious Lord 91 and aunt Mary, whose eyes lit up on seeing her
brother and niece and who immediately crossed over to them.

Rachel's nerves were already at full stretch as she watched Lord
Kingsley come towards where she stood, in an agony of apprehension,
with her father.  He was unsmiling, his dark hair and the immaculate
black clothes he wore making him seem like a sinister-looking figure
indeed.  He walked with an easy stride until he stood before them,
inclining his head in polite greeting.

Rachel dropped a conventional curtsy, lowering her eyes, her eyelashes
touching the soft flush which had suddenly sprung to her cheeks.  For a
moment they looked at one another without speaking; for some
indefinable reason she began to feel uneasy.  Even though a faint smile
now touched his lips, his behaviour was so unpredictable---and she knew
it was going to be no simple matter apologising to him.

He was at once courteous and attentive as polite greetings were
exchanged.  His eyes came to rest on George Fairley.

"Welcome to Mortlake, Mr.  Fair Icy I am so glad you were able to come
this evening.  Lady Brayfield tells me you have not been well of late:
I trust you are feeling better?"

"Thank you--yes.  It was kind of you to invite us, Lord Kingsley,"
replied George Fairley.  "However, I have to say I was somewhat
surprised to receive your invitation.  I was under the impression you
were to leave for London."

"That is still the case.  Sir Edgar and I are to leave first thing in
the morning---but we thought a little dinner party would not go amiss
before we left."

"And will your stay in London be a lengthy one?"

"I hope not.  I have been absent from Mortlake Park too long as it is.
There is much to be done."

"I, too, leave for London within the week," said "Lady Brayfield, 'with
my daughters, of course--and Rachel is to accompany us."

Once more Lord Kingsley's dark gaze became fastened on Rachel's which
seemed to be watching him in fascination.  "Really?"  he said in a sot
voice.  "Then no doubt we shall meet at some occasion or other, Lady
Brayfield."

"Yes--I very much hope so."

"And are you to accompany the ladies to London, Mr.  Fair Icy asked
Lord Kingsley.

"Heaven forbid, sir.  Unfortunately, my health will not permit it and I
regret to say I do not possess the stamina to keep up with the amount
of parties and assemblies my dear sister is planning on attending. No,"
he chuckled, 'give me the solitude of Meadowfield Lodge any day. "

"There I cannot blame you," smiled Lord Kingsley.  "I have no mind to
stay long myself."

"Tell me, are we to have the pleasure of Lady Kingsley's company this
evening, Lord Kingsley?"  asked Lady Brayfield.

"I'm afraid not.  My stepmother does not enjoy the best of health, as
you know.  She keeps to her room most days."

"Then I am sorry to hear it.  Please convey to her our good wishes."

"Thank you."  He looked across the hall to where the butler was
announcing that dinner was shortly to be served, before looking at
Rachel and offering her his arm.  "Miss Fairicy--may I escort.  you
into dinner?"

"Yes, thank you," she.  said, overcoming her nervousness, surprised she
was able to answer audibly.  She placed her gloved hand on his arm;
feeling the sinewy muscles beneath the cloth of his coat and the warmth
and power within him.

As everyone began to move in the direction of the dining-room, Lord
Kingsley looked down at her.  "You look entrancing," he said quietly,
his dark eyes boldly sweeping over her in appreciation--at the deep
pink satin gown she wore with a low bodice and two flounces on the
skirt that parted to display the underskirt of rows of cream and pink
lace ruffles.  "That colour pink certainly becomes you."

There was a Caressing note to his voice that caused Rachel to look at
him inquiringlY.  What she saw in his eyes sent a quiver through her
and she felt her heartbeat quicken alarmingly; she was certain his
penetrating eyes could lay bare the soft flush that covered her body
from head to toe beneath her dress.

She experienced some consternation and dismay--and at the same time a
certain amount of pleasure at the effect he was having on her, but she
was resolved not to show it.  It was clear there was to be a
continuation of the intimacy that had existed between them when he had
called at Meadowfield Lodge, showing her a softer side to his
character--which she considered to be far more dangerous to her
sensibilities than what she had at first imagined him to be.

The whole house was elegantly designed and decorated with great taste.
On leaving the hall, they passed through a fine suite of rooms, all
tastefUlly and expensively furnished, the walls displaying a mixture of
equestrian, military and landscaped paintings.  Elaborate gilt-framed
mirrors glittered everywhere.

The dining-room was large, the ceiling and walls of exceptionally fine
stucco work and heavily gilded.  Portraits hung on the walls of various
members of the Kingsley family, and over the chimneypiece a huge
portrait of one of Lord Kingsley's ancestors with his wife and children
dominated the room.

A long, splendidly arrayed table, decorated with roses and silver
candelabras and fine china and silver, was set for sixteen people.
Because everybody was already well acquainted, each having much in
common, the conversation was interesting and lively.

Lord Kingsley presided over the meal with aristocratic courtesy.
Looking down the table from where she was sitting between Sir Edgar and
the vicar of Ellerton, Rachel was confUsed as she watched him entertain
his guests, for he was all charm and politeness---so very much at
variance to the character she had built up of him in her mind.

Because he was not at all like she had imagined him to be, she was
angry with herself for having allowed herself to be influenced so
easily by what others had said of him.

With imposing servants in attendance, a variety of dishes was served
and the longer the meal progressed, the louder and more lively the
conversation became.  Apart from exchanging the conventional
pleasantries, Rachel joined little in the conversation, preferring to
listen instead.  Matters of local interest were discussed at length and
society gossip, before moving on to the politics of the day.

When America was mentioned and its independence discussed, it was
inevitable that someone would bring up the subject of Lord Kingsley's
sugar plantation on Barbados.

"Rumour has it that you are considering selling your plantation in the
Indies, Lord Kingsley," said Lady Brayfield sitting on his right.  "Is
this true?"

"I can confirm the rumours, Lady Brayfield.  It is true that I am to
sell my plantation on Barbados."

Lord Kingsley's gaze flickered to where Rachel sat and she lowered her
eyes, becoming swamped with a sickening feeling of embarrassment and
confUsion, knowing by his look that the conversation they had had at
Meadowfield Lodge was uppermost in his mind.  She also knew that she
would have to face him eventually to apologise for having misjudged him
so readily--and that he would show her no mercy.

"Then does that mean we will see more of you--that more of your time
will be spent here at Mortlake?"

"It does."

"But why sell when sugar is one of the world's most lucrative
commodities?  For what reason?"  asked the gentleman sitting across
from Rachel.

"A moral one," he answered, simply.

"Oh--I see.  So you have not been pressured into it by the
abolitionists--who, I hear, are gathering strength since Mr.
Wilberforce voiced his own opinion that slavery should be ended."

"No.  My own conscience tells me it is not right.

To make one's fortune based on something as evil as slavery is quite
indefensible," William said, reiterating Rachel" s own words, his eyes
once again coming to rest on hers, giving her the impression that he
was addressing her and no one else.

"Because my father supported slavery as being a natural and
unquestioning condition for black people, it does not necessarily
follow that I should agree with or approve of everything he did.  It is
an appalling practice--inhuman--and I agree absolutely with the
abolitionists that it must end."

There was a ripple of agreement from everyone around the table.

"I have to say," Lord Kingsley went on, still looking at Rachel, 'that
it is an issue I have discussed with an acquaintance--whose opinion is
equally as strong as my own, and who made no attempt to conceal her own
abhorrence regarding the evils of slavery and the disgust it arouses in
many people.

"However, I suppose it's fine for everyone in England--who have never
seen a black person in their lives-to moralise on the fights and wrongs
of such a practice, but who never lift a finger to change things Other
than utter self-righteous proclamations."

Rachel became scarlet to the roots of her hair, for his eyes conveyed
to her the message that she was the acquaintance he spoke of.  She
could not remember having felt so foolish or so humiliated--just when
everything was beginning to assume different pro-ponions, when she knew
that everything she had thought in relation to his concerns had been
wrong and was prepared to swallow her pride and apologise for having
misjudged him.

Oh, she thought angrily, if she were not in the presence of so many
people, what wouldn't she say to him?  He had no right to imply that
she was one of those self-righteous moralists!  She met his eyes when
they came to rest on her tight features and she was furious to see that
he was aware of her discomfort and seemed amused by it,

At that moment servants began placing decanters of port and brandy on
the table, which was a sign that it was time the ladies withdrew.
Rachel was relieved to escape to the adjacent salon, hoping that before
the gentlemen joined them she would have had time to compose herself.
The gentlemen were not absent too long, but thankfully, by the time
they were all seated and cards were produced, her fury had abater.

Being an accomplished musician, Emily sat at the forte piano and her
nimble fingers began to pass over the keyboard as she played a lively
piece.  A footman appeared and stepped towards Lord Kingsley, who bowed
his head to listen to what he had to say.

Observing him from across the room, Rachel saw a troubled frown crease
his forehead before he turned towards his guests.  He smiled and with
what she thought to be an assumed lightness, excused himself, telling
them there was a small domestic matter that required his attention,
before following the footman out of the room.

Replete after a such a splendid meal, everybody abandoned themselves to
playing cards and listening to the soothing tones of the music.  With
languishing dark eyes, Caroline sat beside Sir Edgar Mainwaring on one
of the elegant settees.  Sir Edgar was an irresistible charmer whose
attentions towards Caroline had plunged her into a state of romantic
excitement.

Wanting to secure a good match for both her daughters, Lady Brayfield
did not oppose the interest he was showing in Caroline--in fact, she
was evidently well pleased with the way things were moving in that
direction.  Caroline may not have captivated the attentions of Lord
Kingsley, as her mother had hoped, but Sir Edgar Mainwaring would do
very well indeed.

Standing close to the French windows, having no desire to join one of
the card games in progress and drawn by the coolness the terrace
offered, Rachel slipped outside into a twilight haze.  The magnificence
of the house contents and decoration was well matched by the view to be
seen from the terrace, of well-planned gardens and acres of parkland
stretching all the way to Ellerton.

Passing empty rooms, she began to stroll along the length of the
terrace, lifting her face to allow the light breeze to cool her cheeks.
Reaching the end, she paused on top of a short flight of steps that led
to the gardens below.

The evening was warm, the air filled with the scents-of summer flowers.
She breathed deeply, listening to the notes of the music as they
floated out to her through the open glass doors.  She looked towards
the lake in the distance, its waters still and dark.  Onthe horizon the
sky was a blaze of crimson, shot through with threads of blue and
silver.

Sighing deeply, she was about to turn and go back, but became rooted to
the spot when, quite by chance,

she happened to glance through a slightly open French window that she
was close to and saw a woman standing in the centre of the room.

Unable to prevent herself from doing so, Rachel moved closer to the
window and stared at the woman, for she looked so strange and the scene
was quite bizarre.  She was a slender woman of medium height with an
air of respectability, and yet her appearance was rather odd.

She was elaborately overdressed and her face painted--outrageously so.
Her lips were as brightly crimson as the dress she wore, her cheeks
coated with rouge and powder.  Her hair was almost white; an attempt
had been made to arrange it, but without success, for untidy strands
hung limply down the sides of her face--which was somewhat haggard, but
'still bore traces of great beauty.  Rachel had the strange suspicion
that the lady was Lady Kingsley, but if so, then what was wrong with
her?

A maid was in the room with her.  From their actions, Rachel could see
she was quite distressed and trying to coax the woman towards the door.
But the strange-looking woman was resisting and was clearly angered by
the maid's persistence she began throwing her arms wide and shouting at
her in a hysterical manner.  There was something about her behaviour
that was beginning to seem increasingly odd.

At that moment the door opened and, transfixed, Rachel watched as two
footmen entered, followed by Lord Kingsley.  He appeared to be quite
calm when he spoke to the woman and his presence seemed to have a
calming effect on her, for gradually she became quiet, looking suddenly
weary.  Her shoulders drooped and she hung her head, as if overcome by
a deep sadness, as she allowed herself to be led from the room.

Lord Kingsley was about to follow but at that moment his eyes fell on
the partly open French window.  Whether he sensed her presence or
looked by chance, Rachel had no way of knowing, but she saw his face
quicken and his eyebrows draw together in anger when his eyes fastened
on her still form standing there.

At once' she retreated a step, her heart pounding uneasily at being
caught out witnessing something he would not have wanted her to see. He
strode across the room quickly and out onto the terrace, firmly taking
hold of her arm and guiding her away from the glass doors.  His face
was grave and his lips pressed together in a firm line when he stopped
and released her

Swamped with guilt at having witnessed something not meant for her
eyes, her cheeks became flushed with embarrassment.

"I--I am so sorry," she stammered, regretting having walked so far
along the terrace.  "I was merely walking along the terrace--I--I did
not mean to--'

q'm sure you didn't, Miss Faidey," William interrupted curtly.

"Was--was the lady I saw Lady Kingsley?"

"Yes.  My stepmother is ill--that you already know.  Earlier today she
considered herself to be too ill to attend the dinner party this
evening, but thought she felt much recovered suddenly.  However--as
you

4n Illustrious Lord 101

saw for yourself she was not and her maid has taken her back to her
room.  "

"Oh, !  see," Rachel murmured, strongly suspecting his explanation was
merely an invention to pacify her.  But the matter was clearly one of a
delicate nature and she was not one to pry, although her curiosity
concerning Lady Kingsley had increased considerably.

"I would appreciate it if you did not discuss this matter with the
other guests, Miss Fairley, and urge you to forget what you have
seen."

Rachel swallowed hard and she nodded.  "Yes--of course.  You can be
assured of my discretion."

His expression relaxed.  "Yes--I'm sure i can.  Now," he said, with an
assumed lightness, falling into step beside her as they walked back
towards.  the Salon and his other guests, 'tell me, do you like
Mortlake, Miss Fair Icy

"Oh, yes," she breathed, relieved to see his features soften and more
than happy to put what she had just seen behind her for the time being.
"Who would not?  It is very beautiful.  One advantage of severing your
interests in the West Indies is that it will enable you to spend more
time here.  You must miss it very much when you are away."

"Yes, I do.  The West Indies are extremely beautiful--and I do not deny
that I have become extremely fond of Barbados and its people--and yet I
leave it without regrets for what I have here at Mortlake Park."

"Who would not be happy in surroundings such as this?"

'1 hope you are enjoying the evening.  "

"Yes, very much.  You are a generous host, Lord Kingsley."

"Oh--I can be quite charming when I am in such delightful company.  You
were very quiet during dinner, Miss Fair Icy William said softly,
thinking that in the diminishing light her face looked like an
icon--with her pale skin and large dark eyes.

'l was?  "

"Yes.  Considering the topic being discussed earlier I would have
thought you would have favoured us with your opinion."

"You already know my opinion, Lord Kingsley--and, besides, perhaps I
had nothing much to say and preferred to listen instead."

"And did you find what you heard interesting?"  Since you ask, no.  I
did not care for the conversation at all.  Especially when you implied
that I was one of those people who utter self-righteous proclamations.
Why did you not tell me of your decision to sell your plantation on
Barbados when you called at my home that day to see my father?  " she
reproached him.  " Was it your intention to make me feel foolish when I
found out the truth?  "

She asked the question lightly, without rancour, for, this being his
home and she his guest, good manners prevented her from arguing.

William shrugged slightly.  'l saw no reason to.  I do not feel I have
to justify my aims or reveal my intent to anyone---and you must believe
me when I say that it was not my desire to make you feel foolish.

If !  have done so, then I apologise most humbly.  "

" Thank you.  "

"It was plain when I called on your father that day that you thought
the worst of me, Miss Fairley, but why should I have enlightened you in
order to alter your opinion of me?  Although in the light of the
evidence you had to hand, I can well understand why you must have
thought me a tyrannical slave owner.

"When I referred to those who moralise on the evils of slavery without
lifting a finger to change things, I was not applying the accusation to
your-self---and l am sorry if you thought that.  But, sadly, there are
many in England--and especially in the Government--who fit the
description."

"Am I to understand you refer to those who hold high office and 'also
own plantations in the West Indies--who will not show support to the
abolitionists for fear of losing a large proportion of their wealth
should slavery be abolished?"

William nodded.  "The same.  But if I may refer to your initial
assessment of my character, your reaction towards myself, to what you
understood to be correct, was severe and complete--but as I remarked on
our last encounter, it was somewhat misguided.

"Maybe the knowledgeable Mr.  Nolan was responsible for that," he said
quietly, with a trace of sarcasm, 'who, it would appear, was so ready
to malign my character--who set himself up as judge and jury where I am
concerned, and who seemed to have such' a passionate interest in my
affairs.  "

"With the evidence on hand, he would hardly have sung your praises,"
Rachel said with a little smile.

"Perhaps if he had inquired a little further into my affairs, he would
have discovered that I was considering selling the plantation long
since.  it was no secret."

"Then what can !  say, Lord Kingsley?  Except that,

whatever your reasons for waiting until your father's demise to
unburden your sins is really not my concern.  "

William frowned and seemed to consider the word thoughtfully before
replying.  "Sins!  Yes--I suppose that is how you would look at
it---and you are right--1 should have done something about it before he
died.

"However, I am not a saint, Miss Faidey, and like all men I have many
flaws.  I do not deny that I've done my share of wrongdoing and
attracted much criticism--from myself, mostly, but, considering the
savage nature of the times, I saw to it that the plantation was run in
a decent and proper manner."

He sighed suddenly, looking ahead towards the gathering darkness.  When
he next spoke, his tone was one Rachel hadn't heard before, his
expression when he next looked at her possessing a yearning quality, as
if at some time during his life he had been affected by some
unsupportable distress.

"All my life I have looked after the Kingsleys' interests on Barbados.
It was my grandfather who started our plantation and bought the first
slaves.  He died shortly afterwards, leaving my father to inherit. 
From being a relatively poor man, sugar made him wealthier than any of
his forebears.  He would not lay such wealth aside for any moral
grievances people might have against slavery."

"And you are different?"

"I am.  My father was aware of my views and discontent--he even
sympathised with them--in his own grudging way.  But he was a firm man
and would not be gainsaid.  He was convinced his way was right.  When
he died I could live with it no longer:'

"And now?"

"Now I want something that does not include the enslavement of others.
Oppression is never right."

"Even if that something merits less--after all the years of plenty?"

William smiled down at her upturned face, watching her closely.  "If I
invest wisely, then I believe I shall be able to stave off the years of
famine, Miss Fair Icy

Looking into his eyes, Rachel thought what a curious and fascinating
man he was.  There were so many conflicting sides to his nature that
astonished her.  It was clear to her now that she had been quite wrong
in her assertions and was mature enough to admit it.

"It seems I owe you an apology, Lord Kingsley.  I had no right to judge
you.  I am sorry if I offended you."

William's lips curved in a slow, teasing smile and his strongly marked
brows were slightly raised, his dark eyes suddenly glowing with
humour.

'l am not usually one to forgive an injury--especially when that injury
has been directed against my character.  When I recollect my own
apology to you on our first encounter and your harsh refusal to accept
it--then you could hardly blame me if I chose to to take a similar
stance.

"However, I consider myself to be a gentleman--regardless of your low
opinion of me--and if I wish to improve your opinion and settle this
matter amicably, then I can see I must accept it."

His words kindled wrath in Rachel's deep blue eyes.  "How noble of
you," she replied with barely concealed sarcasm, her face set in stiff
lines and her voice steely.  "But if you cannot accept my apology
willingly, then I would prefer it if you did not accept it at all."

She noticed an irritating spark of mischief dancing in his dark eyes
and she knew he was playing with her, delighting in vexing her, and she
flushed with indignation.

"I beg you not to mock me, Lord Kingsley."

The mischief disappeared from his eyes and his expression above the
snowy whiteness of his cravat became serious.

"Mock you?  You are mistaken if you think that.  l would neither mock
nor offend someone I hold in such high regard as yourself.  You, Miss
Faifiey, are so much at variance and a complete contradiction in terms
of appearance.  Not only are you beautiful, but you also have a frail
vulnerability--and yet beneath it all there is a strong, wilful
determination which belies your outward appearance.

"I admire you greatly.  I admire your forthright character and strength
of mind.  If you had been born a man, without the restrictions imposed
on your sex, I believe you would achieve anything you so desired."

Rachel was filled with astonishment; he never failed to surprise her.
She stared at him, her eyes wide in her pale face, more than a little
shocked by what he had said.

"You--you jest," she murmured.

"I am not jesting.  I never jest about serious matters.  Whenever we
meet, you always succeed in getting on the wrong side of my character.
No woman has ever done that.  As a man you would make a formidable
adversary, Miss Fairley.  A man would be proud to do battle with such a
worthy opponent."

Rachel stared at him, at a complete loss for words.  She told herself
that, despite the changes she had discovered to his character, he was
still arrogant and conceited, the kind of man she disliked most, and
yet he was unlike any man she had ever known; she found herself drawn
to him against her will.  He had succeeded in making a definite
impression on her which was both stimulating and exciting.

But she should be warned; she already suspected he was a man adept at
getting what he wanted, that he was a man of power, and she sensed an
element of danger in becoming too well acquainted with him.

He was standing very close, looking down at her penetratingly.  The
silence stretched between them, lengthening and becoming dangerous, but
Rachel could not move, and, feeling herself to be in the grip of some
powerful emotion, she did not want to move---even though it was an
emotion that threatened to destroy her sensibilities and overwhelm
her.

The moment was one which saw a heightening of both their senses and
involuntarily William took a step that closed the distance between
them, his eyes darkening and letting his gaze drop to her lips, moist
and slightly parted.  His closeness made Rachel feel too vulnerable,
but she was unable to move away.  She caught her breath, able to feel
the heat emanating from his body, to feel the power within him and the
warmth of his breath on her upturned face.

Just when she thought he was going to lower his face to hers, to place
his mouth on her lips, to her relief and dismay the moment was broken
by her aunt Mary coming out onto the terrace.

"Why, here you are," she remarked, walking towards them, having noticed
their absence and judging it advisable to seek them out--and on
observing the hasty steps they took away from each other, and the look
that passed between them when she stepped out onto the terrace, then
she thought it was not a moment too soon.  'l came to find you to see
if either of you would care to Partner me at whist.  "

Rachel flushed scarlet and gave an embarrassed, shaky laugh, trying,
but without success, to hide the confusion she so clearly felt at being
caught alone with Lord Kingsly in what had almost been a compromising
situation.

"Why--I would love to, Aunt Mary.  I--I just stepped on to the terrace
for some air and became quite distracted by the view."

"Apparently so," her aunt replied drily.

'l--I'd better go inside.  Excuse me, Lord Kingsley.  "

His eyes glowed warmly down at her, feeling none Of the embarrassment
which so clearly' gripped her.  "Of course.  I must go inside, also.  I
am neglecting my other guests."

Followed by her aunt and Lord Kingsley, Rachel walked back into the
brightly lit salon to join the other guests.  The rest of the evening
passed in some kind of blur.  Lord Kingsley did not address her
directly again but his eyes trailed over her continuously.

She was aware of his presence, of his eyes, which had an unsettling
effect on her heart.  She could not think coherently, and from the way
every pulse in her body throbbed intolerably, how every time their eyes
met she felt all the power of his gaze, it made her realise that
something was happening between them.  There were forces at work in her
mind she found almost impossible to understand.


Chapter Six

What Rachel had seen at Mortlake Park disturbed her greatly.  What was
wrong with Lady Kingsley?  she asked herself.  It was well known she
did not enjoy good health, but from Rachel's own observations her
behaviour had been most peculiar.  In addition, Lord Kingsley's request
that he would prefer her not to discuss what she had seen, to try and
forget it, puzzled her further.  Why?  What did it all mean?

She turned all these questions over in her mind, but no answer was
forthcoming.  In the end, she tried concentrating her thoughts on other
matters, for, after all, it really was none of her concern.  But she
had a curious feeling that Lady Kingsley's condition was somehow
significant to Lord Kingsley's refusal to allow his half-sister to
marry Stephen.

Her own feelings towards Lord Kingsley were confused.  She felt guilty,
ashamed, even, of her premeditated opinion of him, and yet,
recollecting his harsh treatment of her brother, then she believed she
still had every reason to think ill of him.  Although, she asked
herself--when she considered l I l his manner towards her father and
herself since their first encounter, which could not be faulted--was it
possible that she had misjudged him in that also?  Perhaps rank and
connections were not as important to him after all; it was a reasonable
enough explanation for him to consider his sister, at seventeen years
of age, too young to marry.

But there were other conflicting emotions churning around inside her
that added to her confusion where he was concerned, which were of a
more personal nature, emotions she was reluctant, but which she knew
she would have, to face, if she hoped to have any kind of future.  She
had no wish to remain at Meadowfield Lodge all her life, pining for a
lost love who had found happiness with another.

Ralph Wheeler had entered her life at a time when she had been young
and vulnerable, when she had wanted nothing else from life but love and
passion, but he had played her false.  He had lied to her, deceived her
when he had said he loved her, and destroyed all her hopes, all her
ambitions for the future, leaving her with nothing but anger and a
bitter memory of betrayal.

But under the layers of resilience and cold reserve she displayed to
any predatory male who turned his attentions on her, determined never
to allow anyone to hurt her as Ralph had done again, there still lurked
the same young girl who had fallen in love with Ralph, a girl who had
laughed and teased in the summer of her youth, who had been full of all
the joys that life had to offer,

And now, since Lord Kingsley had entered her life, she felt he had the
power to make her think once more of that same young girl, to revive
her spirit and to renew her faith in a world in which she thought love
had been denied her, and to help her to view life once more with the
same carefree emotions.

With a warm glow flowing through her, she thought repeatedly of their
conversation on the terrace at Mortlake Park.  Remembering how much
sincerity there had been in his voice as he had described his own views
with regard to her character, she had a curious longing to hear him
repeat what he had said.

They were not the words of an enemy and, remembering the strange and
serious expression in his eyes and the compelling way in Which they had
been spoken when he had said, "I would neither mock nor offend someone
I hold in such high regard as yourself' and " I admire you greatly',
neither were they the words of a friend in the ordinary sense.

After much heart searching and emotional upheaval, now, to her
consternation, her feelings for Lord Kingsley were so very different
to' what they had been.  He filled her with a warmth and excitement
otherwise unknown to her--and she knew it was going to be difficult to
dislike him the way she had been able to before she had made his
acquaintance.

There was an intensity of feelings between them that developed
increasingly with each encounter, and also a physical attraction they
were each aware of.

When she thought, with a certain amount of pleasure and embarrassment,
of the intimate moment they had shared on the terrace, there was no
doubt in her mind that he would have kissed her but for her aunt's
untimelyr timely--arrival for she was unsure how she felt about it in
the light of this self revelation, when she had been profoundly
conscious of his nearness and all her control had almost left her.

Not even Ralph had provoked such a debilitating effect on her senses.
She had never felt so weakened by him.  In fact, looking back, Ralph
now seemed to have been so young, still a youth, and dull in comparison
to Lord KingsleY.  Their's had been a shared, gentle passion--which
made her ask, now she had made the acquaintance of Lord Kingsley, if it
rdally had been love?

She found there was an element of danger in knowing Lord Kingsley that
secretly excited her, however hard she tried to lrght against it, for
in her quiet moments she kept seeing his amused, dark, sardonic eyes.

She did wonder if he were set on a course of seduction, which she found
disturbing, but on reflection she did not suspect him of being a
philanderer; being an aristocrat, he was ruled by the gentleman's code
of behaviour that demanded self-control and prevented him from making
advances towards the innocent daughter of a friend however much he may
desire to do so.

He had given her an insight into the serious side of his nature; she
realised that, in contemplating this, she was in danger of becoming his
victim--which, she suspected, was what he intended.  But if so, after
alienating her over his harsh treatment of Stephen, why would he think
she would succumb to his powers of persuasion?

Not for one moment had the word love entered into her thinking; it was
not an emotion she wanted to familia rise herself with just then, and
anything of that nature between herself and Lord Kingsley she
considered to be quite out of the question.  A man who was as rich,
powerful and incredibly attractive as he was could have any woman he
desired.

He had been right when he had said that she succeeded in getting on the
Wrong side of his character whenever they met.  Whenever she was with
him, his presence affected her greatly in a way she could neither
contemplate nor understand; she felt that, to cover her confusion, she
had to be on the defensive.

If they were to meet again---as they surely must, given his friendship
with her aunt Mary and his acquaintance with her father, and as she
ardently hoped then she was determined to tread carefully in a way that
showed restraint.

After receiving another letter from Kitty, which informed her that
Kitty's situation was a good deal worse, making it impossible for her
to resume her career with the company at the Drury Lane theatre when it
reopened, and honouring Kitty,"s request that she said not a word of
the dire straits Kitty found herself to be in to their father, it was
an extremely worried Rachel who set off for London with her aunt Mary
and her cousins.

She hoped that, when he arrived, she would be able to confide in
Stephen, who, like the rest of the family when they were in London,
always resided at Brayfield House, but she was disappointed to find he
had left for Newcastle on business.

Lady Brayfield's fashionable house in Hanover Square soon became a hive
of activity, with an end, less stream of visitors.  Ever since her
marriage to

Lord Brayfield she had been a popular figure on the London scene.  She
loved entertaining and enjoyed most social events.  The table in the
hall was permanently full of calling cards.

With tremendous excitement, Caroline and Emily planned all the social
functions they were to attend.  Their time spent in London was to be
one long round of balls, assemblies, masques, picnics and other events
which would exhaust even the most energetic young lady.

However, Rachel, who was in no mood to enjoy such an active social
life, did not share their exuberance, for when she thought how
miserable Kitty appeared to be from the tone of her letters, then she
made up her mind to see her as soon as possible.

Lady Brayfield, who had a natural affection for her niece, and had been
kind and supportive since her mother's death and Kitty's departure from
Meadowfield Lodge to follow her acting career, was not so busy that she
did not notice a change in her.  When her daughters were visiting the
shops, leaving Rachel, who preferred not to accompany them, at home,
she managed to speak to her alone in the drawing-room.

"I cannot help noticing that you have not been yourself of late,
Rachel," she said with a touch of concern.  '1 strongly suspect you are
concernod about

Kitty.  Am I correct?  " Rachel stared at her, for usually her aunt
meticulously avoided any mention of Kitty.

"Yes--I am.  1--I believe she has not been well of late and I shall not
be content until !  have seen for myself that she is all right."

"It's a pity she did not show the same concern for yourself when she
took it into her head to become an actress," retorted her aunt, unable
to keep the abrasive note from her voice.

"She has done me no great wrong that I can see," Rachel replied softly,
not wishing to become embroiled in any conflict with her aunt over
Kitty.

"You are too forgiving, Rachel.  Your loyalty and love for your sister
are to be commended, but Kitty, ruled by her emotions, has selfishly
taken your devotion for granted.  She has certainly done you no
favours.  That business with Ralph Wheeler is sure proof of it."

"I have no regrets over that, Aunt.  By all accounts, Ralph is happily
married now."

"He would have been married to you had Kitty given you any
consideration.  Your chances of procuring a suitable marriage have been
reduced considerably.  No man of rank and substance will ally himself
to a woman who claims such close kinship with an actress."

"Oh, one never knows, Aunt," said Rachel lightly, keeping to herself
the fact that Kitty's actions often led her to think with a gnawing
anxiety of her own future, but refusing to let it worry her unduly or
to pity herself, 'there may be someone who will choose to overlook that
when they learn my father has settled on me a substantial dowry.  "

"Maybe--but somehow I doubt it--unless, of course, his estates are so
encumbered he has to marry a woman with sufficient means."

'if that were t be the case, then !  would not accept such a situation.
I would sooner not marry at all.  "

"Spinsterhood is not for you, Rachel--that is a poor outlook and is
unthinkable."

"Oh, I think I could reconcile myself to it very easily, Aunt."

"Why should you?  You have assets to attract a husband--maybe not an
earl or a lord but a respectable gentleman just the same."

"Who would do just as well," smiled Rachel, amused by the importance
her aunt and women like her placed on a title.  "I care little for
people with titles who have nothing else to recommend them."

She would have liked to add--with nothing better to do other than dress
up in the latest fashions and fritter their money away on entertainment
and clothes, but thought better of it, not wishing to give offence to
her aunt, for it came very close to attacking her own way of life.

"But there is no denying a title would be very nice all the same.  You
have good looks to recommend you and you are proficient in most things
better so than my own daughters, though I do say so myself.

'l love them dearly, but how I wish Caroline and Emily had just a
little of your sense, Rachel--I suppose it's my own and my dear late
husband's faults.  They have been spoilt and indulged all their lives
and, as a result, have turned out to be rather silly young women.
Caroline, in particular, is vain of her prettiness.  "

"But she does appear to have captured Sir Edgar Mainwaring's heart,
Aunt Mary.  Anyone seeing them together cannot fail to see there is
true affection growing between them."

Her aunt brightened suddenly.  "Yes--now that would be a good match,
and he is in London at this time with Lord Kingsley."

She looked at Rachel with sudden interest, remembering the look that
had passed between her niece and the aforesaid gentleman when she had
come upon them on the terrace at Mortlake Park, which had piqued her
curiosity.  "Speaking of Lord Kingsley, Rachel, he seemed to be much
taken with you when we were at Mortlake Park."

Deliberately rejecting any notion of her aunt's, that Lord Kingsley and
herself would one day become attached to one another, Rachel smiled,
shaking her head slowly.  "No, Aunt, not really.  I know I can hope for
nothing from Lord Kingsley other than his acquaintance.  I shall never
lose sight of my own inferiority where he is concerned," she said with
wry humour.  "And--anyway, there are other things in life apart from
marriage."

"Unfortunately, to hold a place in society, a woman must be married,
Rachel.  It is a fact of life.  Maybe we will see something of Lord
Kingsley before he returns to Mortlake Park.  As I understand it, he is
in London to locate his brother.

"Although, from what I know of James and his intemperate desire for
pleasureaving lived so long on the liberties of his family---his
presence is to be found wherever there is popular entertainment.  Lord
Kingsley will not have to look very far.  Now--what is all this about
Kitty not being well?"

Unable to keep up with the pretence that all was well with her sister
any longer, Rachel sighed.

"When I received a letter from Kitty before we came to London, she
informed me that she has been quite unwell of late--and that she is
unable to resume her career with the company at the Drury Lane
theatre."

"I am sorry if her health is not as it should be, Rachel, but I, for
one, am relieved to hear she is no longer exhibiting herself on the
stage," said Lady Brayfield.  She looked at Rachel sharply.  "Is.  your
father aware of this?"

"No.  Kitty begged me not to say anything for the time being.  And
besides--you know yourself, Aunt, how frail he has become of late. With
his weak heart--and the doctor's advice that he does not overtax
himself unduly--I fear any further anxiety over Kitty might prove too
much for him.  I really must spare him this if I can."

Her aunt' se yes softened.  Your sense of obligation and duty to your
father is commendable, my dear, and .  l suppose you are right.  His
worries over Kitty are great indeed.  But what is she doing?  What.
does she live on?  I know--in her foolish desire to be totally
independent--she refused any offer of an allowance from my brother. "

"Unfortunately, until I have seen her, I am no wiser than you are;
Aunt."

"Then I suppose you will have to go and see her," remarked her aunt
crossly.  "Although I have to say that I am ashamed and disappointed by
Kitty's behaviour.  Your father allowed her too much licence--I said so
at the time, but would he listen?  What on earth possessed her to do
something so extreme as to become an actress?  Did she not realise that
we were the ones who would have to live with the scandal?  She has
brought nothing but disgrace and embarrassment to the whole family."

Rachel could not deny that there was much truth in her aunt's words;
nevertheless, she was hurt by the severity of her condemnation of
Kitty.  She rose immediately to her sister's defence.

"Being the kind of person you are, Aunt, it is natural that you should
feel disappointment, but I cannot help admiring Kitty's Bohemian
attitude to life--and her contempt for society's ways.  Despite the
embarrassment you say she has brought on us all which I am sure was
unconsciously done--I am very proud of Kitty.

"When Stephen and I were in London in the spring and went to Drury Lane
to see her on the stage, before the theatre closed for the summer
months, I have to say that she shows great talent and works very hard.
The acclaim she receives is well deserved."

Her aunt's lips curved in a slow, disdainful smile.  "Kitty was always
susceptible to flattery and adulation and it would seem that little has
changed.  However, knowing of your fondness for her, I shall make no
further disparaging remarks.  When do you plan on visiting her?"

"As soon as possible.  Kitty has always been a rather complex person
but she has always been decisive and known what she wanted.  That is
why the contents of her letters of late have given me cause for serious
concern.  It is so strangeo unlike her."

"Yes--I can see that you are worried, Rachel, and have cause to be. She
is your sister, after all, and it is only natural that you feel
concern.  But !  will not accompany you--you do understand that, don't
you?"

"Of course.  I shall go alone."

"No.  You must take my maid Celia with you.  I cannot permit you to
travel about London by yourself.  My dear brother would never forgive
me."

Kitty rented two rooms above a fruit shop in Catherine Street, close to
the the Drury Lane theatre.  Rachel shuddered to think of her sister
living in such a disreputable area with its sinister maze of courts and
dark abodes, and where harlots paraded nightly.  Since the theatre had
closed for the summer months and she had declined to go on tour, Kitty
assisted her landlady, Mrs.  Gilbey, in the busy fruit shop.

After instructing Celia to remain with the carriage until she had seen
her sister, Rachel went towards the shop.  Usually, she would have
paused to look around her, marvelling in the throng of people strolling
about in a carefree, casual way in the warm sun.

Distracted by concern for her sister, however, today she was unable to
delight in the wonders of the capital--to take note of the whole area
ablaze with colour and a cacophony of sounds as barrow boys and
costermongers, milkmaids and the songs of ballad singers, to name but a
few, rose above each other to compete with the sound of iron-rimmed
wheels of carriages and cans rattling over the cobble stones.

Inside the shop she saw a buxom woman of middle years, with florid
features and copious double chins.  A large, stained apron covered the
front of her dress and she was serving a customer, which told Rachel
that this must be Mrs.  Gilbey.  She looked towards Rachel, whose face
was bright with hopeful anticipation that at last she was about to see
her sister.

"Are you Mrs.  Gilbey?"  Rachel, not having met the woman on her
previous visit with Stephen, inquired when she had finished serving the
customer.

"Yes, dear.  And what would you be wanting?"

'l have come to see my sister, Miss Kitty Fairley.  Is she at home, do
you know?  "

The smile faded from Mrs.  Gilbey's lips and she wiped her hands down
the front of her apron.  "I think you'd best step into the back for a
moment, Miss Fairley," she said, moving towards the back of the shop
and leaving her assistant to serve a young couple who had just come in
from the street to purchase some succulent-looking strawberries on
display.

Mrs.  Gilbey parted a curtain covering a doorway, through which a
narrow wooden staircase rose to the rooms above.  She turned to face
Rachel, fixing her with a steady gaze.

"Your sister has gone," she said directly,.  'two weeks back.  "

Rachel was so surprised she could only stand and stare at her in
disbelief.

"Gone?"  she repeated.  "But that is not possible.  You must be
mistaken."

"No, she's gone all right," said Mrs.  Gilbey, offended that this young
woman should doubt her word.

Rachel's confidence at seeing her sister had been so great that this
blow made her heart sink.

Seeing the spontaneous shock and disappointment on Rachel's face, Mrs.
Gilbey relented and spoke more kindly.  "I'm sorry.  This is a shock
for you, l can see."

Rachel looked at her in bewilderment.  "Where--where did she go?"

'l don't know, dear.  But I have to say I was most disappointed in her.
Left without a by your leave, she did---all of a sudden one night. Took
her things and left owing two weeks' rent.  "

"Oh--I'm so sorry, Mrs.  Gilbey.  I--I shall recompense you, of
course."

"Thank you.  That would be appreciated."

"Do you have any idea where she might have gone?  Are there any friends
you know of whom she might have gone to stay with?"

Mrs.  Gilbey shook her head.  "I couldn't say.  Besides she's hardly
likely to tell me, is she, owing me two weeks' rent?"

"No--I'm sorry.  Of course not.  Did her friends often call on her?"

"Oh, aye.  They did that.  Popular was your sister--with most of the
company from the theatre."

"Was--was there anyone in particular, Mrs.  Gilbey?  I--I mean--'

"Was there a gentleman?"  Mrs.  Gilbey finished for her, nodding.
"Yes--and a proper gentleman he was, too, if you ask me.  Handsome he
was--and always dressed in the finest clothes."

"Do you remember his name?"

"No.  He came but seldom--but she was quite struck by him--you could
tell.  He came to call a couple of days before she left--and they had a
right proper argument, they did.  Not that I was in the habit of
listening, mind, but a person would have to be stone deaf not to have
heard them."

"What did he look like?"

"Ohuite tall, he was, very fair and handsome."

"And you really have no idea where she might have gone?"

"No.  Although you may find out more at the theatre.  Her friends might
know."

"You may be right--although I was under the impression she was no
longer with the company at Drury Lane."

"That's right.  She left some time ago and helped me in the shop until
she up and went."

"She wrote telling me she was not feeling well, Mrs.  Gilbey.  Was she
ill?"

Causing her chins to wobble, Mrs.  Gilbey shook her head and appeared
to give Rachel's question some thought.  "I don't know about that, Miss
Fairley.  If she was poorly, then she never said a word to but come to
think of it, she did look a bit pea ky and wasn't her usual cheery
self."

Feeling Mrs.  Gilbey could be of no further help, Rachel sighed,
wanting to run up the stairs and look in the room above the shop to
make sure Kitty wasn't there.  After giving Mrs.  Gilbey the rent Kitty
had leftl owing, she moved back into the shop, pausing in the
doorway.

"Thank you for your help, Mrs.  Githey.  You been most kind.  If--if my
sister should return, tell her that I have called and she must contact
me."

"Aye--I'll do that," she said, but as Rachel walked back to the waiting
carriage she shook her headl knowing full well that she had seen the
last Kitty Fairley.

The fear and anxiety over Kitty's whereabouts gripping Rachel's heart
was so great that she was swamped with hopelessness and despair,
remembering nothing of the journey back to Hanover Square.  She was
hopelessly confused as she struggled with many unanswered questions.

Where was she?  Who was the man Mrs.  Gilbey had referred to?  Was she
in love with him?  Had she gone to live with him?  Dear Lord, she hoped
not.  Her sister had already stepped outside the bounds of propriety by
becoming an actress.  but for her to live openly with a man would ruin
her reputation completely.

If only Stephen had not left for the north--he would know what to do.
It would be so much easier for him to make enquiries into Kitty's
whereabouts than for her.

She was in such a dilemma when she climbed the steps of the house that
she failed to see the elegant black carriage and four waiting in the
road.

She saw Lord Kingsley through the open door to the drawing-room the
moment she entered the house, even before her aunt, having heard her
come in, came into the hall to announce his presence.  He looked so
handsome, so full of vigor and so perfectly turned out in his dark
green frock coat and pristine white cravat, his curling black hair
gleaming brightly.

Caroline and Sir Edgar Mainwaring conversed together, Sir Edgar having
taken a seat beside Caroline, who looked calf-like into his eyes and
smiled prettily, listening to all he said and holding on to his every
word, while Emily, seated opposite, occasionally put in a word or two.
Lord Kingsley was

An H!  ustrious Lord standing by the fireplace, seeming to be
unconcerned about making conversation.  After removing her bonnet,
Rachel moved slowly into the room.

As if he felt her presence, by some sixth sense William turned and saw
her watching him.  The strangest sensation passed between them and
Rachel suddenly had a peculiar feeling that here was someone who could
help her, that he was so strong, so self-assured.  How good it would
be, she thought wearily, to put the burden Kitty had presented her with
on to someone else, someone she could rely on to help her locate her
wayward sister.

But why should she imagine for one moment that Lord Kingsley would come
to her aid?  He was in London to locate his own brother who, according
to her aunt, was equally as troublesome as her sister,

"Rachel, my dear," her aunt welcomed her, "I am so glad you are back.
We have visitors--Lord

"Yes, so I see."

Lady Brayfield disappeared to arrange for refreshments to be brought
for her visitors while Rachel stepped into the room--and it seemed to
her that Lord Kingsley's gaze never left hers.  She lowered her eyes as
she bobbed a polite curtsy and then raised them slowly, looking up at
him fully.

His eyes were sharp and observant, and all the anxieties she was
feeling leapt towards him.  He frowned slightly, detecting all was not
well with her, that she was putting on a show of politeness for his
benefit.

His expression was grave and inquiring.  "It is a pleasure to see you
again, Miss Fairley.  Are you enjoying London?"

"Since we arrived scarcely two days ago, sir, I have hardly had time to
attend any of the functions my cousins are so busy planning.  And what
of you?  Have you managed to locate your brother or does he continue to
elude you?"

"For the present.  Although I understand he is staying with an
acquaintance in Kent and is due back in London any day now.  Sir Edgar
and I are to visit the Drury Lane theatre tomorrow evening.  I have
taken a box and Lady Brayfield has honoured me by accepting my
invitation that she, your cousins and yourself, be my guests."

Overhearing what he said, Caroline gave a little squeal of delight.
"Oh, that will be wonderful," she enthused.  "I have heard they are
putting on Mr.  Garrick's play, The Country Girl--and that Mrs.  Jordan
is to play the lead."

William smiled at her obvious pleasure.  "She is indeed.  And if she is
as successful here in London as she was in Dublin then we are in for a
treat."

'l have heard that her morals are quite outrageous--for I do believe
she has not one, but several illegitimate children.  Is that not so,
Lord Kingsley?  " asked Emily Suddenly, in wide-eyed innocent
curiosity.

"Emily!"  chided Caroline sternly.  "You must not let Mama hear you say
such things-esPecially not in the company of gentlemen."

Unrepentant, Emily ignored her sister's stern rebuke, her flushed
expression and bright eyes revealing her eagerness for a little
scandalous gossip.

"Nevertheless, it is so, is it not, Lord Kingsley?  she persisted.  "
And is it not quite shocking and shameful?  "

Frankly amused, William laughed outright, his strong white teeth
flashing from between his parted lips.  "I have to say it must be both
shocking and shameful indeed for a lady to find herself in such an
unfortunate predicament once--but several times is quite insupportable.
Mrs.  Jordan's affairs have been fodder for gossip for some time.  It
would seem she has not been ungenerous favours.

'l do feel you will enjoy and as it is the first night having been
closed for the in dispensing with her seeing The Country Girl of
showing he theatre summer months then I

imagine every-seat will be taken.  "

"Then thank heaven you have hired a box, Lord Kingsley," said Emily. "I
would not want to miss it for the world."

Turning, Rachel saw by the expression in Caroline's eyes and the note
in her voice as she animatedly discussed the event with Emily, that the
prospect of an evening spent at the theatre with Sir Edgar delighted
her.

She searched frantically in her own mind for a reason not to go, in no
mood for such frivolity until she had found Kitty.  She knew her aunt
would not have accepted Lord Kingsley's invitation had she not been
aware that Kitty was not to resume her career with the company.

Lord Kingsley smiled with polite indulgence at the two sisters, but
then turned his full attention to Rachel, again fxing her with his
dark, inquiring gaze.

"And what does Miss Fair Icy say?  Does the prospect of seeing the
opening night of The Country Girl not excite you as much as it does
your cousins?"  he asked quietly.

'l--I thank you for your kind invitation, Lord Kingsley, but--l--l--'

"Come now, I know on our first encounter I gave you the impression that
I abhorred the theatre and had a low opinion of anyone Connected with
it--but I assure you that is not the case.  On quieter contemplation, I
have re-examined my behaviour of that day and remember your abhorrence
to my remarks that you found so offensive.  I recollect on it often and
have every reason to reproach myself.  My behaviour to you then was
unpardonable.

"I do want you to come--the reason for my invitation being that it
would give me the chance of proving to you that I do have some
redeeming qualities.  Once ill thought of, I have to find some way of
gaining your favour."

There was no mistaking that he was in earnest and Rachel felt a
stirring of warmth in her heart and--not for the first time--a dawning
of respect.  He was making it extremely difficult for her to refuse his
invitation.  "You--you do not have to prove anything to me, Lord
Kingsley."

"But I believe I do."

"Why should you?  Why should you feel it necessary to have such
sentiments?  Forgive me if I seem surprised, but on three of our
previous encounters we did not get on at all we!!.

'l say this without being cruel or unkind, but l realise now that my
manner must have seemed impertinent and presumptious to you and, having
a tendency to let my tongue run on without restraint, I did not believe
I had impressed you in the slightest' and had only succeeded in
convincing you that not only am I inferior to you in social standing
but also of mind.  "

"Not inferiority of mind.  Never that, Miss Fairley--and I believe I am
not so self-opinionated as to think it," he said gravely.  "It is food
to my soul to find someone, like yourself of equal mind, both
refreshing and stimulating to converse with.

"I should have made an attempt to suppress any uncivil behaviour I
might have shown--and if I exposed my anger and frustration then it was
directed more at myself than with any intention of wounding you.  Is it
too much to hope that eventually you might view my character in a more
amiable light?"

Rachel looked at him steadily.  "No--it is not--but, in truth, l do not
understand you.  You are quite surprising."

"If you knew me better you would know I am full of odd surprises," he
smiled.  "I am paving the way with good intentions for the future, Miss
Fair Icy You see, with the sale of my plantation on Barbados, my life
and associates are going to be somewhat different from what they have
been."

Rachel was silent, declining to ask if she could be named among his new
associates.  It was not without a certain wild pleasure that she hoped
she would be, although she would not allow herself to think of him in
any light other than an acquaintance--pleasant or otherwise remained to
be seen.

"You have a sister on the stage at the Drury Lane theatre, I believe?"
he said on a lighter note.  "If she is in the play, then you will have
the opportunity of seeing her perform--unless, of course, you will find
it an embarrassment watching her in our presence."

"NOl-Of course not, but my--my sister is no longer with the company at
Drury Lane, Lord Kingsley."

'l see," William said, seeming to detect from the way her words
faltered and she avoided his gaze that all was not as it should be with
her sister.  " So--you will come?  "

"Yes---thank you," she replied, smiling softly into his eyes.  "How can
I refuse?"

"Then it is settled."

There was a note of finality in his voice which told Rachel there was
nothing more she could say on the subject.

"Forgive me, Miss Fairley, but I cannot help but observe your
despondency.  Is there anything the matter?  Is there something
wrong?"

"No.  If I appear despondent, then it can only be put down to my outing
and the awful congestion of the traffic on the streets.  I have to say
that because of it my errand took twice as long as it should have
done."

"I believe it is something other than the traffic which troubles you.
You have been to see your sister, have you not?"  He smiled when she
glanced at him sharply.  "Forgive me, but your aunt mentioned it."

"Yes--yes, I have."

"Then that must have given you certain pleasure to see and talk to her
again."

"It would--but sadly l was denied that pleasure.  I


 did not inform Kitty of my visit, you see, and she was not at home.
"

They were distracted at that moment when Lady Brayfield returned to her
guests, and it was only when they had departed and Rachel had given her
an account of her visit to Kitty's lodgings, relating all that Mrs.
Gilbey had told her, that her aunt relented in her attitude towards
Kitty and became almost as concerned as to her whereabouts as Rachel
was.

"You are right, of course, Rachel.  Kitty is your sister and no matter
what she has done, however foolish, she must be found.  I am afraid
your father must be told at once."

Rachel's eyes flew to hers in alarm.  "Oh, no, Aunt.  Surely not.  I
dread to think of the effect such news will have on him."

"Nevertheless, he must be told.  It is our duty to tell him.  We can
only pray it does not prove to be too much for him."

Chapter Seven

The street in front of the Drury Lane theatre, which provided an
unfailing source of entertainment for Londoners, was congested with
carriages and people alike long before the doors were opened for, being
the opening night after the long closure over the summer months, the
only sure way of securing a seat in the gallery or the pit was to
arrive at the theatre early.

It was Emily's first visit to the theatre and she was in a state of
euphoric excitement, her eyes positively agog as she absorbed
everything--from the elegant and fashionably attired gentry and nobles
in the gallery and private boxes, to the disreputable-looking raucous
mob dOWn in the pit.

"Good gracious," she said in shocked amazement.  "It hardly seems a
reputable place to be when one observes the scandalous behaviour of the
people down below."

"Nonsense," laughed Sir Edgar good-humouredlyl glancing over the edge
of their box at the subject of her attention.  "Theatres are much
improved and quite respectable places nowadays.

"Only ladies of a certain low character, as seen down in the pit,
attend without a male escort," he said in a conspiratorial whisper to
Emily, indicating several ladies of dubious reputation, with
over-painted faces and garish, extravagant head-dresses and huge
nosegays on the bosoms of their provocative low-bodiced gowns.

"And do you enjoy the theatre, Sir Edgar?"  asked Caroline.

"Yes, enormously, although one of my chief delights when I am in London
is to visit the pleasure gardens on the south bank of the river."

"We've never visited any of them as yet, but Mama has promised to take
us to Ranelagh next week.  She says they are far superior to Vauxhall
and one cannot move a step without coming upon a prince or an earl."

"Then you must allow me to be your escort," offered Sir Edgar, 'and
Lady Brayfield is quite right.  Ranelagh may be more expensive at two
shillings and sixpence for admission as opposed to Vauxhail's one
shilling, but I consider it to be well worth it.  Yes--I shall be happy
to escort you, Lady Brayfield," he said, looking to where she sat next
to Rachel at the other side of the box.

"Thank you, Sir Edgar.  We shall look forward to it," she acknowledged
with a gracious smile.

"Of course, I cannot speak for Lord Kingsley," said Sir Edgar, 'who, I
dare say, will be otherwise engaged ut it will be my pleasure to show
you the.  Rotunda and the canal--and the flower gardens are a constant
delight--is that not so, William?  " he enthused, turning to his
friend, who acknowledged his question with a smile.

"They certainly are.  And if it is possible to see them by moonlight,
then Ranelagh is a magical place to be."  He looked across at Rachel,
who seemed unusually quiet.  "Are you to visit Ranelagh also, Miss Fair
Icy

She seemed to start and caught his gaze.  Clearly something other than
the pleasure gardens occupied her-thoughts.  Secretly she was wondering
how she could possibly get to the back stage of the theatre to make
enquiries about Kitty, for there must be someone who would remember her
and know something of her whereabouts.

"Why--yes, of course."  she replied absently.  "I am looking forward to
it."

Rachel fell silent, fxing her gaze on the closed curtains that hid the
stage.  Deeply apprehensive, she hadn't slept the previous night
through worrying about Kitty; as a consequence, she was pale and her
expression strained.  On arriving at the theatre, Lord Kingsley had
given her an anxious look and had spoken to her quietly as he had taken
her arm and had escorted her up the stairs to the box he had hired for
the evening.

"You seem to have a great deal on your mind this evening, Miss
Fairley."

"Yes," 'she had replied, meeting his gaze, seeing no reason to deny
what must be obvious.  "You are very perceptive, Lord Kingsley."

'l merely observe that you are not your usual self," he had said.

"I beg you not to concern yourself on my account.  I am sure my problem
will resolve itself."  By the time the performance began, the
theatre,

seating about two thousand people, was packed, the audience becoming
quiet with expectancy as the curtain rose and the footlights blazed but
whether it would remain so when the play began, when the ineptitude of
any of the actors did not meet with the audience's approval, then it
would respond with a loud stamping of feet and hissing and booing to
show its displeasure.

The box next to Lord Kingsley's Was full of fashionable fops, loud with
idle chatter, constantly making forward comments to the ladies on the
stage much to the displeasure of the more refined, intelligent theatre
goers, who took a genuine interest in the play.

Throughout the performance, Rachel sat quite still, her eyes never
leaving the stage.  In spite of the anxiety she was feeling over Kitty,
she found herself relaxing and enjoying the play, laughing along with
the audience at the comic and witty repartee produced by the actors.

At a break in the play, Lord Kingsley leaned forward to speak to her
quietly.  "I'm happy to see you are enjoying the play."

"Yes, I am--very much," she replied.  "After tonight's performance,
without doubt, Mrs.  Jordan will certainly be seen as the Queen of
Comedy at Drury Lane.  She is wonderful in the role of Peggy, don't you
agree?"

"She certainly is, although I think you do not agree with the scenario.
I think l am right when l say you cannot identify yourself with Peggy,
am I not?"  he asked with a glow in his dark eyes, his face not far
from her own as he spoke quietly, fanning her cheek with his warm
breath, speaking to her with a deep level of intimacy as each
remembered the conversation they had shared by the river at Meadowfield
Lodge concerning a woman's role in life.

"Not really..."  she smiled 'as well you know.  You are already
familiar with my views on how a young lady should be raised.  I cannot
agree that she should be reared by her guardian---or her father or
whoever it may be--in ignorance and innocence so that she may become a
compliant wife.  But it is just a play, after all put on to entertain
and not to be taken seriously.  "

Their conversation was brought to an end by the actors coming back on
stage, but all the while Rachel was conscious of Lord Kingsley's
presence.  His face was almost hidden from her in the gloom but she
could feel his eyes on her.

The play finished early.  When there was no sight of their carriage in
the street, impulsively Rachel turned quickly, excusing herself on the
pretence that she was missing her fan Which she kept carefully
concealed in the folds of her skirts--and must have left it on her
seat.

"Wait--I'll go," offered Sir Edgar gallantly, but Rachel was already
going back through the door.

"No--thank you."  She smiled back at him with a cheerfulness she was
far from feeling.  "I shall not be a moment."  She ran back inside the
theatre, pushing her way past the people coming out, knowing she hadn't
long, so she must hurry.

Finding her way back stage, she suddenly found herself cast into a
world of chaos--colourful, noisy,

exciting, a world of wayward unreality.  It was gaudy and bright, the
warm, slightly sickly air of candles and greasepaint wrapping itself
around her and drawing her into a different world--a world in which she
could well envisage her gregarious sister.

Props and scenery littered the floor, leaned against the walls or were
being moved by stage hands--all important elements of theatrical life.
There were racks and racks of costumes---fluted, scalloped, lace,
taffeta, heavy brocades, shocking and gaudy--and all manner of wigs
hanging on pegs or ado ming heads--long wigs, bobbed, full-curled, some
straight and some elegant and stuck high with tortoiseshell combs.

Without a shred of modesty, actors struged out of their costumes, and
some, in less of a htiry to leave the theatre now the performance was
over, re reciting their lines in pompous tones and throwing their arms
wide in flamboyant, affected pose, obh%ious to the mayhem all around in
their effort to become word perfect, giving way under sudden outbursts
of angry frustration and nervous anxiety when they failed to do so.

Quickly, and in desperation, Rachel made enquiries of several people
concerning Kitty.  Most of them knew her, some better than others, but
no one could tell her why she had suddenly decided not to return to the
company or where she had gone.

She stared at the picturesque presentation al!  around her, finding it
strange, weird, almost, that all\\ these people had known and worked
with Kitty, had shared her leisure hours, and yet they had allowed her
to disappear from their lives as if she had never been.

Trying to overcome the awful fear that something terrible might have
befallen her sister, Rachel looked about her, lost and bewildered,
knowing she must return to her aunt, who would be getting increasingly
angry at being kept waiting, but she was unable to move.

With a feeling bordering on utter despair, she stood xithin a warm
circle of light, suddenly finding it so hot behind the stage.
Everything seemed to be swimming around her and she thought she would
faint, but all of a sudden Lord Kingsley was beside her, a worried look
upon his face.  She swayed slightly and, reaching out, he placed an arm
firmly about her waist, steadying her.

"I must apologise if I startled you," he said quietly.  "You look most
unwell.  Would you like to sit down a moment before you return to your
aunt?"

"No thank you.  I am quite all right."

"When I saw you dash back inside the theatre, I followed you to make
sure you were not molested.  Did you make a pretence of returning for
your fan in order to come back stage to enquire after your sister?"

She nodded wearily as his arm dropped from her waist, but she had been
very much aware of the brief contact and experienced a feeling of
regret when he relinquished his hold on her.  "Please forgive me.
Everything has been suspended in my mind by Kitty's disappearance.  I
can think of nothing else."  "Disappearance?"

"Yesterday, when you came to the house, I did not tell you that, when I
went to see my sister at her lodgings, her landlady informed me she had
left her rooms suddenly, without any prior notice and owing two weeks'
rent.  Can you wonder that I am worried about her?  She has gone and no
one has seen her since.

"Looking back to the last time I saw her, I now realise her behaviour
was studied--yes," she said, almost to herself, 'something was wrong
even then.  She laughed a lot and tried to appear normal, but I now
realise she was trying to create a calculated impression to fend off
any worries I might have as to her health.

"Since that time, I have come to understand from the contents of her
letters that she is ill.  She was not specific so I do not know the
nature of her illness--but I pray this is not connected in any way with
her disappearance."

"But have you enquired among the people here?  Surely, if she was with
the company until before the summer recess, then she must still have
friends among them.  She cannot simply disappear."

"But she has," she replied, quite distraught.  "I have enquired and no
one has seen her."

"Can you not think of anyone she might have gone to stay with?
Relatives or friends of your family, perhaps?"

Rachel shook her head.  "No.  Only one thing comes to mind and it is
quite, quite shocking."

William nodded slowly, seeming to understand what was in her mind.  "A
gentleman?  Was she involved with someone?"

Rachel swallowed hard.  "Yes, I believe she was."

"And have you no clue as to his identity?"  "No.  Nothing.  Besides,"
she whispered," 'it would seem there are many gentlemen of her
acquaintance.  It could be any one of them.  I suspected something of
the kind when she showed no inclination to go on tour during the summer
months--as many of her theatrical friends did--and by her own account
had an enjoyable time even though the work was hard.

"I am deeply concerned for her health and safety.  I have to t'nd her,"
she said with outright anguish, with a trembling voice, struggling to
repress her tears, for she did not want Lord Kingsley to see her weep.
'l have to fnd her before her position becomes quite desperate--before
something quite dreadful happens to her.  "

Rachel's eyes sought Lord Kingsley's for understanding and reassurance,
and she saw there was a strange expression on his face she had not seen
before as he looked at her in silent sympathy and commiseration.

"What has your father to say to all this?"

"He he knows none it.  Kitty begged me to conceal it from him.
She----she did not wish to cause him any distress."

"Then he must be told.  You will do that?"

She nodded.  "It is already done---although I am deeply concerned as to
how such dreadful news will affect him in his weakened state.  My aunt
has written asking him to come to London immediately."

"Then let us hope for your sister's sake it will be soon," he said,
deeply touched by her obvious distress, her vibrancy and physical
liveliness having deserted her in her concern and anxiety for her
sister.  Where was the high-spirited, vital Rachel Fairley he had come
to know?  he asked himself.  It was certainly not this maimed, scarred,
forlorn creature he now beheld on the verge of despair.

Let her sister be worthy of such sisterly love and devotion, who, in
her blind and wanton selfishness, had sought to gratify her own desires
at the expense of her family and especially that of her sister.  At
that moment, overwhelming tenderness rose inside him to do battle with
the anger he felt for Kitty Fair Icy which shook him to his heart's
core.

"Come--you are distressed," he said.  "Let me take you back to your
aunt."

"Yes, thank you," she said.  "I need not ask that you keep this to
yourself for the time being, Lord Kingsley---at least until my father
reaches London?"

"You can rely on my discretion.  I am not inclined to gossip.  There
are secrets in most families one would wish to remain silent."

There was such warmth in his eyes, such concern in his voice, that at
that moment Rachel did not doubt his sincerity.  Only later, on
contemplation of his words, did she wonder if he had been referring to
his own family and the peculiar behaviour she had witnessed at Mortlake
Park of his stepmother.

William was deeply affected and concerned by Rachel's plight and was
still wondering how he could be of help to her in tracking down her
sister when his brother James arrived back in London and presented
himself at Kingsley House---as though he had just returned from a jaunt
around the park instead of three weeks in Kent.

William, who had not seen his brother in several months, immediately
summoned him to the library and watched him enter the room with an
implacable eye, asking himself--as he had done many times--if he could
have directed him better.  Their father's illness, followed by his
death, and his own long absences in the Indies, had left James to go
his own way, which had resulted in his wayward behaviour and attracted
much disfavour from himself.

He was resolved to not allow James to continue in this way.  He needed
a purpose in life, something to bring him' out of the state of lethargy
he had fallen into.  Not since James had been a youth had William seen
excitement illuminating his eyes at some daredevil exploit.

James had always been high-spirited, thriving on excitement and danger,
and his sights had been set on a military career--until his mother,
unable to bear the thought of her precious son being caught up in some
war or other and killed, had ordered him to put the idea out of his
head.  After this, James had appeared to lose heart and began spending
more and more of his time away from Mortlake Park.

William was determined to try and infuse into him a new drive.  He had
too much intelligence, too much energy, to spend his time loitering
about the clubs and taverns of London with his degenerate
acquaintances, drinking and in pursuit of sexual conquests.

In stark contrast to William's dark looks, James was extremely fair
like his sister.  Both took after their mother.  Being a slender young
man with blond good looks and endless charm, James had soon adapted
himself to the London social scene, becoming a popular figure in the
well-to-do drawing-rooms and coffee houses.

He was elegant and immaculate in a grey cloth suit and frothing ace
cravat, with lace spilling from his cuffs over long slender fingers. In
fact, he was every inch a man about town, one to catch the admiring,
languishing eyes of the opposite sex, who would deem it an honour to be
seen hanging on to his arm.  He acted nonchalant as he moved towards
his brother, his manner confident, his smile guileless.

"Hello, William," he said pleasantly, in his usual placid,
even-tempered tones.  "It's good to see you back--although I'm
surprised to see you here in London.  Thought you'd have too much to do
at Mortlake since your return from the Indies.  Sorry I missed you
before.  I would have waited had I known."

"I would not be here, had you 'condescended to return to Mortlake
instead of going to Kent, James," said his brother harshly.

James stiffened, ready to defend himself.  "There was little to do in
London so I went to stay with an acquaintance of mine in
Rochester.---who kindly invited me down to his estate for a spot of
fishing," he said, absently flicking an imaginary speck from his coat
sleeve.  "It was just a jaunt."

"If the bills you normally run up on such excursions are anything to go
by, then no doubt it will prove to have been a costly jaunt," William
retorted crossly.  , "If you were so bored with London, why did you not
return to Mortlake?

"Your prolonged neglect of your' duties towards your mother is quite
disgraceful.  It seems you have given little thought to her or Amanda
during all the time I have been absent.  Your mother misses you and is
forever asking what keeps you away from Mortlake for so long.  What
have you to say for yourself?."

At Wi!  liam's mention of his mother, a weariness came over James's
features and he was beginning to look uncomfortable.  "Only that I had
much to occupy my time here in London.  I saw Amanda before she went to
Europe with Aunt Harriet and she informed me that Mother was quite
well."

"I suspect that is what you hoped to hear, but I can tell you she is
far from it--as well you know."

James was resentful of William's authority over him and the accusing
tone of his voice, but he smiled, nevertheless one of his best
assets--in an attempt to placate his brother.

"Yes, you are right, William--you always are, it would seem," he said,
with just a trace of sarcasm, but not enough to anger William
further.

However resentful James was at times like these--when William spoke to
him like his father had before him beneath his resentment he harboured
a deep love for his elder brother and always missed him dreadfully when
he went to the Indies for long periods.  There was many a time he would
have liked to accompany him but his mother had forbidden it, convinced
the ship carrying him there would be lost in a squall and she would
never see him again.

He sighed, becoming subdued, his face taking on a tired, weary
expression, making him look so much younger suddenly.  "I shall return
to Mortlake within the week--I promise.  In fact," he said quietly, in
an abstract, thoughtful way, "I shall be happy to."

"I'm glad to hear it," said William, his expression inscrutable.  "
Although I am somewhat surprised by your readiness to comply without
argument, which rouses my suspicions--could it be trouble which hastens
your departure from London?  A debt, perhaps, or a jealous husband?
Which one, James?  If it is either of those reasons, then no doubt I
shall find out in time.  "

"It is neither," James replied in an offended tone, beginning to look a
trifle dejected.  "Really, William, you do have a low opinion of me."

"It is hardly surprising, is it not?  The reputation of your friends
cannot be recommended and you value to such a high degree your selfish
pleasures more than your personal integrity.  I can see you are very
much in danger of falling into dissolute, amoral ways from a surfeit of
indulgence."

"I think that's a bit harsh," James objected, a light flush spreading
over his face.

"Do you indeed?  It is true, nevertheless.  I am losing faith in your
ability to do anything other than fritter away your time and money on
idle pleasures.  Do you never stop to consider the impropriety of your
behavioure consequences of it?

"You have a casual disregard for any duty you should feel towards your
family.  When I returned from the West Indies, you should have been in
London to accompany me back to Mortlake.  As it was, when I arrived
there, I found everything in complete.  chaos and, because Amanda had
no one the guide her, she had become romantically involved with Mr.
Stephen Fair Icy

William's sharp eyes noticed how James paled at his mention of Stephen
Fair Icy that he averted his eyes and suddenly seemed extremely
discomposed.  Curious as to the reason, he frowned.  "You are
acquainted with the Fairleys, are you not, James?  They have lived in
Ellerton for the past five years, I believe."

James smiled forced smile, William thought.  "Why--yes," he said,
hesitantly, 'but only in passing, you know, Mr.  Fairicy has two
charming daughters, I think.  Amanda got to know one of them quite well
whilst you were in the Indies the younger one, I believe--who, if I
remember correctly, was just getting over being jilted by some fellow
or other.  I do remember thinking at the time that he must have been
quite mad she is quite ravishing to look at.  "

If James had looked closely at his brother, he would have seen how his
brow creased in a deep angry frown and his jaw tightened while he
related this.  It was not the first time William had been made aware of
Rachel's lost love and how deeply wounded she had been by it.

It went a long way to explaining why, in the beginning, she had not
encouraged their friendship, why she had erected a barrier about her
person and displayed a cool reserve, which, he suspected, was to
protect her from being hurt again.  But he was determined to break down
her barrier, no matter how difficult or how long it took.  Although of
late he had seen a softening.  in her attitude towards him, a lowering
of her ale fences which he found encouraging.

"I did notice that Amanda looked quite dewy-eyed when she came to
London," James continued, unaware of the affect his words had had on
William.

"She told me Stephen Fairley asked for your consent to marry her and
you refused."

"Of course I refused my consent.  She is but seventeen years old."

"Eighteen now, William," James corrected him.  "Her birthday was last
month.  I--I suppose you consider the Fairleys to be socially
inferior?"

He seemed to ask the question with caution, once again a thoughtful,
inquiring look entering his eyes as he looked pointedly at his
brother--as if his answer was important to him, which puzzled William
slightly.  He thought little of it just then, but was to remember it at
a later date.

"Come, James.  You know as well as I it has lo thing to do with his
social inferiority.  In fact, I like Stephen Fairley and consider he
would make Amanda a good husband--but until this unfortunate matter of
your mother's family is cleared up I cannot give my consent for Amanda
to marry anyone--and I would advise you to practice the same
restraint," he said meaningfully.

James had the good grace to look contrite.  "Yes--of course--you are
quite right, William.  Forgive me.  I wasn't thinking."

"And that is precisely your problem, James.  You never do think.  But
things will have to change if you wish to enjoy the pleasures you have
become accustomed to."

James looked at his brother sharply.  "Change?  Why--what do you
mean?"

'1 mean that you will have to begin applying yourself to some kind of
employment.  You are not free to do as you please with your life.  You
have been too preoccupied with your crowd of dissolute socialites to
spend time with your family---and believe me, James, they will entice
you into disgrace and ruin if it goes on.  "

"Then what do you suggest?  I strongly suspect you have a reason for
this severe attack on my character."

William sighed, his anger draining away.  "Come and sit down," he said,
placing a brotherly hand on his shoulder and leading him to two chairs,
one on either side of the fireplace, where they became seated, facing
each other.

"I'm sorry, James," he said, in gentler, friendlier tones, "I didn't
mean to attack you and you must believe me when I say I bear you no ill
will.  After all, no one knows more than I how difficult it was for you
growing up at Mortlake with your mother the way she was and still
is-and, sadly, I have to say she is getting progressively worse.  I
suppose I cannot blame you for not wishing to spend your time there.
But you must understand how concerned I am about the way you conduct
your life."

"I'm sorry, William," said James, seeming more at ease by the softening
of his brother's manner towards him.  "It is not my intention to cause
you to worry.  But you must see that I have little else to do with my
life.  My mother thwarted any ideas I had of carving out for myself a
career with the army--and at that time Father was so afraid of
upsetting her lest it accelerated her illness that he would never go
against her wishes.

"If her family had retained the plantation on Antigua, I would have
seriously considered going out there--but she chose to sell it on my
grandfather's death.  As for Mortlake--well--I have to say I love the
place.  I always have.  But I could not endure Mother's possessiveness
any longer.  I had to get away."

William nodded.  "Yes--I know that.  I do understand, James, and
perhaps what I am about to say might bring a solution to the problem. i
have almost concluded the sale of the plantation on Barbados, so I
shall not be returning to the Indies.  I did tell you that I intended
finding a buyer before I returned this last time, and, as I remember,
you were in favour of my doing this."

"Yes--yes, I was.  Like you, I was never comfortable with the manner in
which we obtained our wealth.  Slavery is an abominable practice and it
is time it was abolished.  What are your intentions now?"

"With the capital from the sale, I intend investing extensively in
industry in this country, for the economy is buoyant enough to do this.
My wish is that you will interest yourself in this and familia rise
yourself with industries into which we will eventually sink our
capital."

"But what manner of industry do you intend investing in?"

William shrugged.  "Iron--steel---coal cotton mills, whatever.  More
factories are being built, more coal mines opened and canals being dug.
The wide range of inventions being produced is extraordinary and
hundreds of new patents have been taken out in the last twenty years,
bringing vast advantages to industry.  Industrial output is soaring in
this country and the value of exports rising considerably all the
time.

15 i

'1 hope you have no objection to this, James, for it will affect you
and Amanda, after all.  I am going to need someone I can trust to send
to the north--to the mill towns and Newcastle and Yorkshire, to see how
these industries are run at first hand.  Come, James, what do you say?
Do you support me on this?  Would you be willing to undertake the
duties?  "

Having always left the running of things to William, James's first
reaction to what was suggested was one of surprise.  William observed a
slight withdrawal, but there was a keen look and a light in James's
eyes that he thought was the first spark of interest he had shown in
anything in years.  He was pleased to see he had at least managed to
capture his attention and curiosity.

"I--I don't know, William.  I have to admit I have given little thought
to what you would do when you severed our interests in the West Indies.
But surely you would be better employing someone more qualified to
carry out this kind of work?"

"We will have financial and business advisers a-plenty--but I want
someone I can trust with me on this."

"And you would trust me with this task?"

"No one better."

"But I know nothing about industry."

"Then you can learn.  You have more intelligence and common sense than
you allow people to give you credit for.  I have Mortlake to take care
of, so l shall not have the time to travel about the country as you
will be able to.  Come, James, do not tell me you want to continue this
degenerate kind of existence."

James shook his head, his features set in a serious expression.  "No.
You are right, William.  This is not what i want and I am certainly not
proud of myself.  I am undeserving of the trust you are placing in me,
but if it is what you wish, then I will do as you ask.  I shall be poud
to.  I shall try my utmost to re-establish myself to you.  I shall try
very hard not to let you down."

"I know you will, James," said William, more relaxed, and he smiled. "I
have every confidence in you.  Come," he said, rising and going to
where a decanter of brandy stood on a silver tray on a side table,
pouring the amber spirit into two glasses and handing one to his
brother who rose to stand beside him.  "Join me in a toast to the
success of our new venture.  It's going to be an exciting time-one
which will bring great changes to all our lives."

Chapter Eight

Feeling unable to return to Mortlake Park until Rachel's sister had
been located, William sent James on ahead of him, reluctant to have him
remain in London any longer lest one of his acquaintances managed to
tempt him to stay and he was lured back into his profligate ways.

After making his own enquiries at the Drury Lane theatre, he succeeded
in gleaning some information about Kitty Fairley from a female member
of the company--one Rachel had not spoken to on her visit.  Acting on
this information, William found himself in Covent Garden, heading for
the coffee houses which, he'd been informed, she frequented on
occasion.

Covent Garden was hardly a respectable place, although it was colourful
and popular With actors, would-be actors, artists and writers alike.
However, it was not one of William favourite areas of London, where
well-to-do had once lived in fine houses--designed over a century ago
in the Italian style by Inigo Jones, until other developments further
west were built and the rich and aristocratic moved out, resulting in
the decline of the fashionable status of Covent Garden.

Now the houses had been converted into seedy brothels and Turkish
baths.  The tone of the locality was raffish and rowdy, squalid and
abounding with immorality, where cheap entertainment, gambling dens and
gin shops abounded behind the elegant faqades of the buildings around
the piazza.

William enquired in the shops and coffee houses in the hope of someone
knowing Kitty Fairley.  It was in the Bedford, close to the Covent
Garden theatre, once frequented by-well known artists and writers such
as Hogarth, Boswell, Garrick, Goldsmith and Sheridan, that at last he
managed to find someone who knew her and told him Kitty was living
close by with a woman by the name of Sally Pearce.

Following directions to the aforesaid woman's house, William soon found
himself in the slums in the streets behind Covent Garden--in alleyways,
reeking yards and dark abodes.  Finding the one he had been directed
to, he banged on the door.  A woman of about twenty-five or so, with a
fall of heavy, greasy dark hair, pulled it open, the low scoop of her
stained bodice displaying her large breasts.

"Well?"  she said in a sullen tone.

There was an aura of robust sexuality about her that told William all
he needed to know about her profession, for her heavily painted face
and garish clothes bore all the marks of a courtesan.

It was not until she got the full measure of her visitor that she
became all smiles and sidled seductively against the door post.

"Well, well," she purred, her insolent, experienced eyes taking in his
expensive and immaculate appearance from head to toe, clearly well
satisfied with what she saw, for her full pouting mouth turned up at
the corners and there was no mistaking her interest.  "What have we
here?  I do declare I haven't seen so fine a gentleman in many a long
day.  Looking for me are you, luv?"

"Save your breath," replied William coldly.  "I'm not interested.  I'm
looking for Miss Kitty Fairley.  I've been told she's lodging with
you."

Immediately disappointment caused the woman's expression to fall.
"Isn't that just my luck.  Oh, well," she sighed, turning her head and
shouting into the dark interior beyond.  "Kitty, luv," she cried,
'someone asking for you---and a right coxcomb he is at that.  "

The young woman who appeared by her side was totally devoid of animated
spirit, in stark contrast to the woman who had opened the door.  Her
appearance was clean and her brown hair neatly arranged.  She looked at
him directly without smiling, her face white and drawn, which
emphasised the sombre emptiness of her dark eyes and told William she
was far from well.  If she was surprised at finding so fine a gentleman
asking for her, she didn't show it.

"Yes?  I'm Kitty Fair Icy she said in a well-spoken, soft voice.

"Miss Fairley, we haven't met before.  I'm Lord Kingsley.  Perhaps
you've heard of me?"

Both women started at the mention of his name--although why this should
be he had no idea.  As if she had received a terrible shock, with a
sharp intake of breath Kitty Fairley's face turned as white as a sheet
and her thin fingers clutched the shawl at her throat like a claw.  She
stepped back from him, staring out of hollow eyes at this handsome
stranger, searching his features as if she hoped to see something she
could recognise that was familiar to her.

"Yes, I have heard of you, Lord Kingsley," she replied in a low,
trembling voice, animosity filling her eyes as she looked at him
steadily.  "Might I ask who sent you here?"

William frowned, a trifle nonplussed, curious as 'to why she should
imagine anyone had sent him.

"No one has sent me.  I am here purely of my own volition."

The other woman now stepped forward, having become hostile and surly,
her features angry and contorted.  "Why--you've a nerve coming round
here with your soft words and fancy manners."

William frowned and looked at her, puzzled as to what she meant.  "Have
I?  I am here merely to have a word with Miss Fair Icy

"If I were Kitty, I'd see you on your way--that I would."

William noticed Kitty put a restraining hand on her arm.  "It's all
right, Sal.  Go inside while I listen to what Lord Kingsley has to
say."

"Aye--but I--'

"No, Sal," said Kitty firmly, her eyes fixed on William.  "Go
inside."

ReluCtantly Sal stepped back and nodded.  "Aye--if you say so, Kitty.
But you're not to lay a finger on her, you hear," she spat at William.
"If you do,

you'll have Sal to reckon with.  She's been put through enough by your
lot.  "

Her attitude and words caused William to become even more curious.
"Will you kindly explain what you meant by that remark?"  he demanded
sharply.

"She meant nothing," said Kitty quickly, pushing her friend back into
the interior of the house.  "Come, we will go to the piazza.  Whatever
you have to say to me, you can say there."

The piazza was buzzing with life twenty-four hours a day, seven days a
week.  When darkness descended, it became alive with pickpockets and
trollops, where courtesans hovered to waylay gentlemen on their way
from the theatres.  Libertines, drunkenness and brawls abounded, and
violent scores were settled in the murky depths of underground
cellars.

Behind the Windows of the buildings in Covent Garden, every kind of
aberration could be catered for for the right price.  But as.  William
and Kitty walked among the fruit and vegetable stalls, where carts were
filled to bursting with freshly cut flowers and ragged urchins
scampered about underfoot, there was no evidence of this.

"I'm sorry about Sal," Kitty said as they walked.  "She's a little
over-protective of me."

"Oh?  And you need protecting, do you?"  William asked, scrutinising
her closed features.

She glanced at him sharply, preferring to ignore his question, but her
look and her silence told William there was something seriously wrong,
something she was keeping to herself.  However, it was not for him to
enquire into the nature of things---but it did not encourage him to
hope that when she saw her Sister, Rachel's concern for her would be
eased.

"Sal has been a good friend to me.  She took me in when I had no where
else to go.  Not that it is any business of yours, Lord Kingsley.  What
do you want with me?  You still have not told me why you are
here---although," she said quietly, her lips curving scornfully, "I
suspect I already know who sent you and why."

"Yes, I think you do.  I am here on behalf of your sister, Miss
Fairley.  She is in London at this time and is almost out of her mind
with worry as to your whereabouts."

Abruptly Kitty stopped in her tracks and stared up at him in puzzled
disbelief.  "Rachel?  You--you are here because of my sister?"

Frowning, William met her gaze, beginning to realise they were talking
at cross-purposes.  "What other reason could there be for my being here
when I have never met you in my life before?"

After a moment she laughed nervously; for the first time since meeting
her, William saw her relax.

"Your sister called to see you at your lodgings in Catherine Street,
only to be told by your landlady of your hasty departure from her
premises that you had left without leaving an address where you could
be contacted.  After writing to her, stressing your urgent need to see
and speak to her, can you wonder she is worried out of her mind to find
you have disappeared?"

Kitty's expression became hard.  "And the state of my sister's mind
matters to you, does it, LOrd Kingsley?"  she asked coldly.

"Yes, it does," he answered, equally as cold.  "You appear to be well
acquainted with her."

"Yes I am.  As friendship goes."

"I see," she said, appearing uneasy suddenly as she digested what he
had said.  "Did she ask you to try and discover where I might be
found?"

"No.  I told you, I am here of my own volition.  I obtained information
as to your whereabouts from a young lady belonging to the theatre
company in

Drury Lane.  "

"I see."

"You must forgive me, Miss Fairley, but I cannot help observing that
you do not look to be in the best of health--and the conditions of the
area you are residing in cannot be recommended and will certainly not
help matters."

She smiled wanly and there was a deep sense of bitterness in her voice
when she answered.  "My health is not as it should be, Lord
Kingsley--that I admit.  But neither my health nor the dire straits I
now find myself to be in are entirely my own doing."  She looked at him
hard, her lips twisting in a scornful smile.  "How I would love to tell
you more, but I fear I would only shock you and make matters far worse
by doing so."

"Then if you cannot bring yourself to explain what you mean by that, is
there any way I can be of help to you."

She laughed contemptuously.  "You?  No, Lord Kingsley, never you.  you
are the last man in the world who could possibly help me."

William's eyes narrowed.  'l do not know the reason for your hostility
towards me, Miss Fairley, and I shall not ask you to explain it, but I
know your father and sister would be most distressed if they were to
discover where you are living.

"Will you not allow me to escort you to Lady Brayfieid's house where
you will find your sister?  She is most anxious to talk to you.  To the
best of my knowledge, your father has not yet arrived in London, but he
is expected in due course, I believe."

"My father?"  she gasped.  "You mean--Rachel has sent for my father?"

"I believe it was your aunt's doing.  Will you not permit me take you
there?"

"No.  Just in case Rachel has not told you all the sordid facts, Lord
Kingsley, my aunt has disowned me.  She no longer wishes to have
anything to do with me.  I am in disgrace---so, you see, I cannot go to
Brayfield House.  However--I would dearly love to see Rachel.  Will you
bring her to me---here--in the piazza?"

Her tone made the words a command rathe than a request, which deeply
annoyed William.  "Why not to your friend's house?"  he asked with cold
sarcasm, for he was angered by her refusal to ease her sister's worry,
which confirmed his opinion' that she was totally selfish and
indifferent to the feelings of others.  "I am sure she would like to
see where you are living, now you no longer reside in Catherine
Street."

Kitty lowered her eyes and shook her head.  After her confident and
independent approach to life since she had left the shelter and
protection of her family to make a career for herself on the stage, she
was too ashamed for her sister to see how low she had sunk.

"No," she said quietly.  "I will meet her here tomorrow afternoon at
two o'clock."

As William walked away from Covent Garden, promising to do as she
asked, he was puzzled and confused by the meeting, which confirmed his
premeditated opinion that Kitty Fairley was spoilt and lived her life
placing the utmost importance on her own desires.  But he was puzzled
as to the cause of the animosity she had shown.  What possible reason
had she for being cold and openly hostile towards him?

He had intended going directly to Brayfield House until he remembered
that no one would be at home, for today Lady Brayfield, accompanied by
her daughters and niece, had gone to Chelsea to visit Ranelagh pleasure
gardens, escorted by Edgar.  Edgar had tried to persuade him to go
along with them, but having already obtained information from the Drury
Lane theatre as to Kitty Fairley's whereabouts, he had decided to go to
Covent Garden instead.

It was a glorious day as Rachel strolled through the pleasure gardens
with her aunt and cousins, with Caroline happily walking along beside
Sir Edgar.  Being mid-week, the gardens--popular with fashionable
society--were not particularly crowded unlike Saturdays and Sundays.
Usually, there was dancing by the river bank as well as in the huge
rococo Rotunda, the principal attraction and centrepiece of the
gardens, used for a variety of entertainments and promenading.  People
stopped at one of the many booths to take a dish of tea or a glass of
punch, or the gentlemen to sit and smoke.

Lady Brayfield was too preoccupied with greeting friends and admiring
the scene to notice how quiet Rachel was.  She was becoming
increasingly dejected as each day passed without any word as to Kitty's
whereabouts---or as to her father's arrival in London, which did not
help to ease her worry.

With the sun warm on her face, she paused beside the ornamental lake,
idly letting her eyes dwell on the delicate-looking structure of the
Chinese pavilion, before focusing them on the gently lapping water, and
thinking of Lord Kingsley, which she found herself doing increasingly
of late.

Often in anguish, but more frequently in delight, his dark eyes and
sleek black brows, the attractive line of his lips when they curved in
humour and the tall, athletic litheness of his body sprang alive in her
thoughts.

She would lie awake for long periods at night, thinking of him,
remembering the firm feel of his arm about her waist as he had reached
out to steady her at the theatre, thinking she was about to faint.  In
dreamy contemplation, she wondered how it would feel to have him hold
her--to love her.

Sighing wistfully, she shifted her eyes from the calm of the water and
found herself looking full into the arrested dark eyes of the very
gentleman who occupied her thoughts.  Their eyes locked together and
she knew he had been thinking of her too, and a wild happiness soared
'through her.

He was watching her in that intent, curious way of his, suave as ever,
dark and splendid; when she met his gaze, his expression changed.  He
removed his tall hat and bowed his dark head in polite greeting, his
hair gleaming in the sunlight, his physical presence almost
overwhelming her.  Nothing was the same between them since they had
talked on the terrace at Mortlake Park.

Before either had time to speak, Sir Edgar, who had seen William
approach, happily strode over to greet him.

"Well, bless my soul.  I did not expect to see you here today, William.
I thought you were much too busy to spare the time to come to
Ranelagh."

"I have been, but my business did not take as long as I expected--and
being such a glorious day, I

thought I would join you after all.  "

"And I'm jolly glad you did."

After greeting Lady Brayfield with an engaging smile she was delighted
he had found the time to join them--William managed to single Rachel
out and walk with her along the paths threading through the sun and
daisy-spattered lawns.  He looked at her with undisguised appraisal.

She was as slender as a willow and so perfectly groomed, dressed in
fine pale blue muslin, the tight bodice emphasising her small waist and
the firm swell of her breasts.  Her wonderful sleek black hair was
coiled under a matching hat, perched rakishly at an angle and
ornamented with a soft white plume.  Her eyes glowed warm, bright and
welcoming as she looked at him.

"You look enchanting.  You are the most beautiful lady at Ranelagh
today, Miss Fair Icy I'm so glad I came after all," he murmured.

Rachel paused for a moment, unaccustomed to such compliments from any
gentleman.  Coming from Lord "Kingsley, spoken in such quiet, intimate
tones, it brought an attractive pink flush to her cheeks.  They were
alone, yet not alone, in a park full of people, and she was extremely
conscious of it.  Suffering from an unexpected attack of shyness, she
looked back along the path to hide her confusion.

"Perhaps we should wait a moment, Lord Kingsley.  We are leaving my
aunt and cousins behind."

Casually unconcerned, William glanced back, smiling at her sudden
confusion.  "We remain in full view of your aunt, so there is no
impropriety.  Besides, I see Edgar is keeping them well entertained,"
he said, walking slowly on.  "It is you I came to see, Miss Fair Icy
not your aunt.  What I have to say to you is for your ears alone."

"Oh?"  She felt a sudden lightness in her' heart beneath the glorious
rays of sunshine.  blazing down on them.  ObserVing the intimacy of the
couples strolling along the paths arm in arm, she dared to hope that he
might be about to utter some tender words of endearment to declare his
passion.  But what he said drove any romantic notion from her mind,
bringing her sharply down to earth.

"Yes.  I bring you the happy news that I have managed to trace your
sister."

His words brought Rachel to a halt and she stared at him.  "Kitty?  But
but--how?  Oh, do forgive me.  I don't understand," she said in a soft,
breathless voice.  "How did you manage to find her--and so quickly?"

"Yesterday I returned to the Drury Lane theatre and made further
enquiries among her colleagues.  One young lady you failed to question
gave m.e the information I required."

As William looked at the dark-ringed eyes in her pale face, he could
see that the nervous strain of Kitty's disappearance had almost been
too much for her, and a quiet rage filled him, because she was being
made to suffer for the follies of her sister.  Her face turned whiter
still and he laid a reassuring hand on her arm.

"Thank God.  Oh, thank God she is safe," she murmured, relief filling
her dark blue eyes.  "I have imagined such terrible things that might
have happened to her.  My thoughts have been intolerable.  How---how is
she?  Is she well?"

"As to that, I cannot say--although to my mind she did not look as well
as she ought---but as to the seriousness of it, I know not.  She did
say she would like to meet with you tomorrow afternoon."

Rachel was uplifted.  "Yes, of course.  If you give me her address, I
shall call on her."

"No--no," he said, much too quickly, causing her to look at him in
alarm.  He could not have her visiting the place where her sister
lived.

Rachel frowned.  "But ... why not?"

"All I can tell you is that she is lodging with a friend close to
Covent Garden and asked that I take you to meet her in the piazza at
two o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

"You?"

"Yes.  She realises that you cannot go alone--and, owing to your aunt's
deep disapproval of her conduct, she knows she would certainly not wish
to accompany you."

Her brow puckered in a frown, Rachel looked at him.  'l have a distinct
feeling you are keeping something from me, Lord Kingsley.  Come--it is
not in your nature to be evasive.  "

'l was not aware that I was being evasive.  I am merely carrying out
your sister's request.  "

"This this friend you say she is living with," she said, averting her
eyes and falling into step beside him as they continued their walk.
"Is--is it a gentleman?  is this the reason why she is averse to my
seeing where she lives?"

"No," he answered softly, smiling into her anxious, dark blue eyes.  'l
can reassure you on that, at least.  Her friend is a woman.  "

Rachel let out a sigh of relief.  "Then at least we can be thankful for
that."  She turned her head and looked at Lord Kingsley curiously. "Why
did you go to look for Kitty?"

He gave a wry smile.  "It was certainly not out of any concern I might'
feel for your sister.  From what I have heard of her, I believe she is
quite capable of taking care of herself."

"Then why?  For what reason?"

"Having witnessed your distress at the theatre the other evening, I was
both saddened and grieved," he said softly, holding her gaze with his
own.  "I wanted to alleviate any suffering you might be feeling owing
to your sister's disappearance."

"Thank you," she murmured.

Totally unprepared for his show of kindness, Rachel's eyes filled with
grateful tears--which had been too ready to flow of late.  As she
brushed them away, William felt a sudden impulse to reach out and take
her in his arms, but he held himself in check.  They walked on a little
way in silence before Rachel spoke, having composed herself.

"Sir Edgar tells me your brother has returned to London, Lord
Kingsley."

"Yes.  After reconciling our differences, he has now returned to
Mortlake, I am happy to say.  Although, taking into account his
fondness for the gaieties of London, it did surprise me how readily he
was prepared to comply with my wishes without argument."

"Whatever the reason, I am happy for you.  But why did you not return
to Mortlake with him?  I was under the impression that yol were to
return also--that to locate your brother was your sole reason for
coming to London, and that once you had found him you would return."

"Yes, it was until your sister went missing.  I could not bear to leave
you in such distress."

"Oh," she said softly, a fresh wave of embarrassment sweeping over her.
"You have gone to a great deal of trouble on my account,-Lord Kingsley.
 What can I say?  I don't know how to express my gratitude."

"Oh--I think I can think of several ways," he murmured, his gaze
sweeping over her face, his eyes fastening with hungry intent on her
lips.

The intimate tone of his voice and the hidden meaning of his words
caused Rachel to drop her gaze, her face growing hot and perplexed,
trying to shake off the effect he was having on her----and yet at the
same time not wanting to, although she was greatly afraid that she was
about to be overwhelmed by her feelings.

"What--what vas her reaction on seeing you?  Was--was she surprised?"
she asked, suddenly, in an attempt to hide her confusion, trying not to
show surprise or emotion but William's observant eyes saw how he had
succeeded in disarming her and he smiled, quietly satisf'ed by her
feminine reaction to his words.

"Yes, you might say that--although from her attitude towards me, l
would say she was not impressed.  !  was extremely puzzled as to what
could be the cause of her hostility, which was evident to me--unless,
of course," he said glancing sideways at Rachel, 'she shares her
sister's initial opinion of my character--without having made my
acquaintance--and has taken a strong dislike to me.  "

"I regret that, where my sister is concerned, I have no secret
knowledge which can possibly enlighten you, Lord Kingsley.  However,
knowing how starry-eyed she has been about the theatre for most of her
life, then I doubt she has given any thought to you or your
circumstances.  Why, if you brought all the slaves from your plantation
on Barbados and set them to work at Mortlake Park, she would never have
noticed."

"To leave her home and family, to become an outcast, even, when one
considers the rules that govern society--which it insists upon---then
before she left the company at Drury Lane, she must have been totally
devoted and committed to her work."

"Yes, she was, which is why I find it all the more curious as to why
she did not go on tour during the summer months.  The rules of society
as we know it ceased to apply to Kitty the day she left home to become
an actress.  She's only happy donning the costumes she wears on stage
and taking on the identity of a man in some play or other, or the guise
of another woman shedding her identity and becoming the character she
plays.  At these times she is no longer Kitty Fair Icy and she is well
satisfied.

'! suppose it is rather like us when we attend a masked or fancy dress
ball--where covering our faces and changing our clothes, assuming a
false appearance, enables us to take on a different identity.
Immediately the atmosphere becomes relaxed and causes everybody to
behave in a more unrestricted and informal manner that one would never
dream of adopting normally.  "

"Then the next time I am invited to such an event, I must make a point
of asking you to be my parmer, Miss Fair Icy William said, turning
towards her, his smile as engaging as ever.

"And I shall be happy to accept," she laughed lightly.  "What was your
opinion of my sister, Lord Kingsley?  Did you liken her to me?"

"No, not at all.  I have to say I find it difficult to believe she is
your sister."

"But she is beautiful, is she not?"

An amber light glowed in.  the depths of WillJain's eyes as he looked
at her directly.  "She is pretty, l grant you, but she does not have
her sister's beauty or any of her finer qualities."

Rachel flushed and they smiled at each other.  "You tease, Lord
Kingsley.  Plea.  se do not think I was fishing for compliments."

No, he thought, looking at her with deep admiration, anything of that
nature was beneath her.  She would not stoop to solicit for such
worthless flattery.  But he was captivated by her and she was beginning
to occupy an important place in his life.  That she shared his feelings
he knew without being told.

"Nevertheless, t meant it as a compliment," he assured her as they
continued to walk side by side along the winding, sunny path, with the
other members of their party following at a discreet distance.  He
thought she was absolutely enchanting.  What a delight it was to
converse lightly with her, for her not to be on the attack as she had
been on some of their previous encounters.

All those weeks ago, when William had first met Rachel Fair Icy in his
anger he had not felt his pulses or his emotions stir, for he had not
taken the full measure of her mind or her beau tying fact, she had
irritated and angered him beyond belief.  He had been furious with her
but, by a sentimental turn of events, what he had come to know about
her-even seeing her weakness, her tears and wretched state--had changed
him completely.

Each meeting since their first had been heading up to this; now, the
emptiness that had bedevilled him over the latter years was beginning
to disappear, for he knew beyond any doubt that he had found someone
who was to be both precious and important to his future.

They were comfortable together as they talked, content to let their
relationship unfold and take its course.  It was as if they were on the
brink of some brand new relationship hitherto unknown to either of
them--for Rachel no longer thought of Ralph Wheeler who had hurt her so
profoundly at the time of his rejection.

She was aware that something was happening to her, for she was filled
with a feeling of deep contentment and well-being.  She delighted in
Lord

Kingsley's dominance and basked in the warmth of his gaze, feeling
vulnerable suddenly, feminine and young-and discarding any ill feeling
she still possessed in his harsh treatment of Stephen.

"You will allow me to escort you to see your sister tomorrow?"

"Yes thank you."

"And will you tell your aunt?"

Out of respect, and because I am staying in her house, I am obliged to
be honest with with her.  No matter what Kitty expects of me, I will
not deceive her.  She deserves better than that.  However, I sense a
softening in my aunt's attitude towards Kitty--especially since I told
her how concerned I am about her health.  I shall try persuading her to
allow me take her back to Brayfield House to stay for a while.  At
least until she is feeling better.  "

"When do you expect your father to arrive in

"If he is well enough to travel, any day now.  I know he hopes to take
Harry to school and will no doubt come directly.

"So you see, Lord Kingsley, after taking me to see my sister tomorrow
afternoon, you will be quite free to leave London and return to
Mortlake Park.  I am sure you must be most anxious to do sound--there
will be no reason for you to remain in London any longer," she finished
softly, averting her eyes and pausing to wait for Emily, who was
calling to them further back along the path.

Lord Kingsley cocked one of his black eyebrows and smiled, a glow
burning in the depths of his eyes.  '1 do not think I am so eager to
return to Mortlake at this present time, Miss Fairley.  I think I shall
remain in London a while longer--purely for my own enjoyment, of
course.  Besides," he said, his voice low and seductive, his eyes
lingering on her upturned adorably flushed pink face, " I can think of
at least one good reason why I should not leave just yet.  "

Chapter Nine

Lady Brayfield was far from happy.  about Rachel going to Covent Garden
to meet Kitty in the company of Lord Kingsley.  But, admitting there
was nothing else for it, for Kitty must be brought back---and not
wishing to discourage the relationship that appeared to be developing
between Rachel and Lord Kingsley; to her observant eyes, Lord Kingsley
was being extremely attentive towards her niece---she relented, giving
her permission provided that' her maid Celia accompanied Rachel.

"I have to say, Lord Kingsley seems to be paying you a great deal of
attention of late, Rachel," she commented.  "I, for one, have noticed
that he never took his eyes off you during the whole performance at the
theatre the other night---and when you disappeared to retrieve your fan
he was not far behind to make quite sure you came to no harm.  Such
solicitude is to be commended.

"Today he sought you out at Ranelagh--I saw you walking close together
in intimate conversation.  If that does not indicate his interest in
you then I don't know what does.  You must have noticed, Rachel?"  she
said, smiling with particular significance, which caused Rachel to
stiffen; she did not like being the object of such speculation.

She knew her aunt regarded Lord Kingsley as the ideal suitor and,
considering the shame Kitty's disgraceful career had brought on the
whole family, thought that Rachel should think herself fortunate to
have attracted the attention of a man of his standing.

"No, Aunt.  I have been too concerned over Kitty's whereabouts to think
about forming a close relationship with any man.  Lord Kingsley very
kindly made enquiries and managed to trace her--that is all.  After
tomorrow, when he has taken me to meet Kitty, then no doubt he will
return to Mortlake Park immediately."

Her aunt sighed, Kitty's regrettable situation driving Lord Kingsley
from her mind.  "If Kitty is indeed in ill health then, no matter what
my own feelings are with regards to' her behaviour, she must be
persuaded to return here with you so that she can receive proper care
and attention.

"Heaven knows where she is living at present--or with whom, she said
drily, 'but the outward respectability of this family must be upheld at
all costs.  I must say, I shall be more than happy when your father
gets here--although what all this to-do over Kitty will do to his
health, I shudder to think."

Seated beside Celia, across from Lord Kingsley, Rachel was in a state
of great anxiety.  " feeling terribly uneasy about her rendezvous with
Kitty, silently praying she would be able to succeed in persuading her
to return to Brayfield House with her.

Knowing her well enough to know of the tension inside her, William made
little attempt at conversation.  He observed her calmly, with a certain
amount of anxiety over her coming meeting with Kitty, but also with a
deep admiration, thinking how beautiful and composed she looked, with a
clear, unguarded luminosity in her deep blue eyes and a transparency to
her pale complexion, evidence of the strain she had been under ever
since she had come to London in search of her sister.

When they finally reached Covent Garden, Rachel saw that Kitty was
already waiting for her in the piazza, standing with her hands by her
sides in the midst of a crowd of people.  Leaving Celia with the
carriage, she pushed and shoved her way through the throng, Lord
Kingsley hard on her heels, but what she saw when she looked
searchingly into her sister's face chilled her to the bone.

Kitty looked miserable and was shockingly pale and gaunt-looking, with
a lacklustre, washed-out quality in her eyes, but on seeing Rachel her
mouth broke into a smile and they embraced affectionately.

"Kitty!  Oh, Kitty!  It's wonderful to find you at last.  When you were
not at your lodgings or the theatre, I imagined all manner of horrid
things that might have happened to you.  Thank goodness Lord Kingsley
found you safe."

The mention of Lord Kingsley's name caused Kitty to stiffen and she
pulled away from Rachel's welcoming embrace.

"Yes---he did, but he could have saved himself the trouble," she said
ungraciously, causing Rachel to look at her in puzzlement, 'for I would
have contacted you myself once I knew you were in London.  "

A mask seemed to descend over her features when Lord Kingsley came to
stand beside them and Rachel saw her step back, drawing her shawl tight
about her, seeing for herself the animosity Lord Kingsley had spoken of
in Kitty's eyes.  It was clear to her that conflicting emotions raged
through her sister she was more than pleased to see her, but she seemed
overcome by a compulsion to flee from Lord Kingsley, which puzzled
Rachel greatly, making her wonder at the reason.

"Thank you, Lord Kingsley, for bringing my sister to me," said Kitty
coldly, 'but would you mind if I spoke with her alone for a few
minutes?  "

Rachel frowned in puzzlement, for her voice was uncharacteristically
sharp.  Lord Kingsley gave no sign that he was disturbed or offended by
this, but she saw his eyes narrow and his lips harden and become set in
a firm line.

"Of course not.  I quite understand."  He looked at Rachel.  "I shall
wait in the carriage until you are ready to leave," he said crisply,
turning abruptly and striding back to the carriage.

"Oh, dear.  Did you have to sound so harsho objectionable, Kitty?"
Rachel reproached her sister.  "Lord Kingsley has been extremely kind
and considerate."

"I did not ask for his consideration."

"At least have the goodness to make an effort to be civil to him."

'l have no reason to be civil to anyone of that family.  And when I
recollect, you were not inclined to think well of them either not so
very long ago.  "

"Maybe you are right, Kitty, but things have changed since then."

"So it would seem."  Her eyes narrowed as she regarded Rachel
curiously.  "There must be a reason for his solicitude.  It matters to
you, does it, Rachel, what he thinks?"

"Yes, it does.  In the early days of our acquaintance I did not think
highly of him at all but, having got to know him a little better, I no
longer feel any contempt and realise I was too hasty in forming an
opinion of him.  It was both harsh and unjustifiable."

"Then I cannot support it," said Kitty contemptuously.  "How quickly
you spring to his defence."

Rachel could not deny.  that Kitty was right.  There was a time when it
would not have entered her head to defend Lord Kingsley to anyone, but
her opinion of him of late had changed considerably.  Now, as their
knowledge of each other grew, she knew her relationship with him was
the most important, the most overwhelming thing that had ever happened
to her, that he was gradually restoring her' to a serene contentment
that had eluded her since her unhappy affair with Ralph.

She sighed, not wishing to get into an argument about Lord Kingsley.
"Tell me--how are' you Kitty?  You wrote telling me you were not
well---and I have to say there is a change in you.  You look different,
somehow.  What is wrong?"

Kitty shrugged absently.  "Nothing.  Nothing specific, that is.  I--I
am tired, that is all."

Rachel suspected she wasn't being truthful and tried pressing her with
further questions; when she saw her questioning was upsetting her, she
resolved to let the matter rest until later.  Whatever the nature of
Kitty's secret, she would have to wait until she was ready to speak of
it4ut of one thing she was certain--it was destroying her.

"Aunt Mary would very much like you to return with me to Brayfield
House, Kitty.  Please say you will come?"

Kitty looked surprised.  "Aunt Mary?  But, surely not.  I went against
everything that is so important to her.  She must hate me for defying
convention the way I did."

"Not any longer, Kitty."

"Then it is extremely generous of her, after all the pain I have
caused."

"Father is expected at any time--although I have to warn you that his
heart condition continues to give us cause for concern.  It is
imperative that he isn't upset unduly."

Alarm filled Kitty's eyes and she became contrite.  "Oh, poor Father.
I'm so sorry, Rachel.  The last time we met you told me he wasn't well.
The last thing I intended was to cause him to worry about me."

"I know that, Kitty, but it is natural he is concerned.  Everyone is so
terribly worried about your 'health.  It is obvious to me that you are
not well.  Please come back with me," she begged.  "It does not have to
be a permanent arrangement.  Under the circumstances, look on it as a
visit.  Perhaps later, when you are feeling better, you will be able to
return to the theatre--to your career."

"No," said Kitty sharply, averting her eyes, but not in time to hide
the pain that filled them from the sharp eyes of her sister.  'l do not
think I shall ever go back.  "

That was when Rachel knew something was seriously wrong, for the
theatre had been Kitty's life.

"Please don't say that.  Come, Kitty.  Will you return with me to
Brayfield House?"

Kitty looked uncertain but then she nodded, speaking in a small voice.
"Yes," she whispered, for she truly had nowhere else to go and was
unable to continue lodging with Sally Pearce unless she had money to
pay for her keep.

Of late, her health had prevented her from holding down any kind of
occupation.  The very idea of joining Sal in her sordid profession was
abhorrent to her, but she was very much afraid that, if she did not
grasp this lifeline her sister was holding out to her, she would have
little choice.

"Good.  Aunt Mary has had a room made ready for you.  So you see--you
are expected."

Kitty disappeared to say goodbye to Sally Pearce and to collect her
belongings, insisting on going alone when Rachel offered to accompany
her; she had no wish for her to see the squalid rooms in which she had
been living with Sal.

Clearly Lord Kingsley's presence upset her and she refused to speak all
the way back to Brayfield House, which led to an uncomfortable silence
between them all.

William was quiet and very polite, but his mouth was compressed in a
firm line and his eyes glittered like steel flints whenever they came
to rest on Kitty's stiffly upright figure across from him in the
carriage,

for it was clear to him that the girl was totally devoid of manners.

On reaching Brayfield House, he climbed out and assisted them to
alight.  "If I can be of assistance, please do not hesitate to ask," he
offered, making an attempt at civility towards Kitty, but he was
sharply rebuffed.

Without any attempt to control her composure, she smiled a bitter
smile.  "No, Lord Kingsley.  I want nothing from you."

Her anger spoke eloquently, again making Rachel curious as to the
reason for her strangely hostile behaviour, she wondered if she had
developed some moral principles and that Lord Kingsley had been correct
in his assertions that Kitty's dislike of him was based on the source
of his wealth, which enabled him to support his illustrious
lifestyle.

Celia took Kitty into the house and Rachel turned back to Lord
Kingsley, who had his eyes fixed on her sister's retreating figure. She
noticed how his black brows were drawn together in a somewhat troubled,
thoughtful frown, his expression as hard as granite.

"Won't you come inside, Lord Kingsley?  I am sure my aunt would like to
thank you personally for finding Kitty."

"No, thank you," he said, his voice coldly formal.  "Lady Brayfield's
reunion with your sister is bound to be one of awkwardness and I would
not wish to make matters worse by inflicting my presence on her.  We
will meet this evening; she has kindly invited Sir Edgar and myself to
dine with you.  I can only hope your sister's temper will be much
improved by then."

"Kitty will not be joining us," said Rachel stiffly, feeling a coldness
beginning to creep over her, unable to believe that, only a short while
ago, her heart had been overflowing with gladness at the prospect of
meeting her sister.  It had all suddenly turned sour, for Kitty's
disagreeable conduct towards Lord Kingsley had turned him into a cold,
polite stranger.

"Then for that I am thankful; a repetition of her unmannerly conduct
towards myself would only cause great embarrassment to Lady Brayfield;
You are extremely tolerant towards your sister, Miss Fairley, and I
wonder, after her severe condemnation of me and her disgraceful
conduct, that you manage to maintain your composure.  I must say that,
for someone who is ill, your sister's tongue is uncommonly sharp.  She
is certainly ill-disposed towards me; for what reason I know not."

Completely thrown off balance by this unfortunate turn of events,
Rachel felt a little surge of anger.  "What can I say except to
apologise for my sister."

"To my knowledge, I have.  never met your sister--but I find her
wanting in both civility and-good manners.  Her independence has taught
her little but to adopt a complete disregard for the feelings of
others--especially those of her sister."

'l--I am so sorry, Lord Kingsley.  What must you think?  I confess I am
confused by her behaviour.  lit is very unlike her to be so outspoken.
"

Rachel's politeness, like her felicitations to her sister, irritated
William almost beyond words.

"Do not feel you have to apologise for your sister, Miss Fair Icy I
fully comprehend that her manners, along with her dignity, have
completely deserted her,

which I can only hope is a temporary state.  Perhaps her illness is
worse than you thought---however, I sincerely hope not.  Should the
situation be reversed, I strongly suspect she would be singularly
inattentive to you.  She is totally insensitive and indifferent to the
feelings of others.  "

"Kitty is much changed.  I do not understand it."

"I must say that I find it difficult to liken her to the acclaimed
actress who, by all accounts, so captivated the audience at Drury Lane
in the spring that she could inspire an audience with such delight.  In
my opinion, she has very little to recommend her.

"I just wonder why she has taken so strong a dislike to me.  There has
to be a reason for it.  Perhaps I was right after all and she shares
your own initial opinion of me--that her dislike stems from the manner
in which I have conducted my business affairs in the past, though I
doubt it.  I very much suspect it to be something else."

As offended by his attack on Kitty as she was by Kitty's rudeness to
him, Rachel was both vexed and pained by it.

"Kitty has imperfections enough without you pointing them out, Lord
Kingsley," she said sharply, 'and I have lived with her too long not to
be aware of them all.  I shall most certainly endear our to discover
the reasons for her un civility There is no accounting for her
behaviour and I can only assume that something has upset her terribly.
I shall do my best to talk to her---to '

"No, no," he interrupted quickly, his manner brusque.  "Do not attach
too much importance to the matter, I beg you.  I am quite indifferent
to your sister's opinion of me."

How Rachel wished she could believe that, for he seemed extremely put
out, troubled and anxious to be gone.

"I bear you no ill will, Miss Fair Icy but I will 'leave you now.  I am
sure you are eager for my departure and anxious to minister to your
sister."

"Yes--yes, thank you," Rachel replied quietly, a sickness which was
like a physical pain twisting inside her heart and becoming almost
unbearable.  A hard lump rose and threatened to obstruct her throat,
and there was a desolation in her eyes as well as her heart.  Her head
was spinning as she stepped back and watched him climb quickly up into
the carriage.  "Goodbye, Lord Kingsley.  I cannot express my gratitude
enough for all you have done."

"There is no need," he said, his voice cold and brusque, an expression
in his eyes Rachel had never seen before as they swept over her one
last time.  "I am glad I was able to be of help.  Goodbye, Miss Fair
Icy He uttered a sharp command to his driver to drive on.

In a wretched, confused and angry state, hearing the jingle of harness
and the clip-clopping of the horses' hooves as they carried Lord
Kingsley away from Brayfield House, Rachel turned and went inside,
feeling it most probable that because of Kitty's rudeness.  her severe
and unconcealed dislike of Lord Kingsley they would never again meet on
such cordial terms as had marked their meetings since they had walked
on the terrace at Mortlake Park.

As William drove away from Brayfield House he was in an angry,
thoughtful mood, a dark suspicion forming in the back of his mind that
Miss Kitty Fairley's unmannerly behaviour towards him mightin some way
be connected to his brother.  He recollected their meeting when James
had returned to London, and his strange reaction when he had asked him
if he was acquainted with the Fairleys and how he had paled, seeming
nervous, and how he had fudged his answer.

He also knew James had been closely involved with an actress when he
had returned from the West Indies and James had failed to meet him in
London.  Was it possible that the actress concerned was Kitty Fairley,
whom James had since spurned?  which would explain Miss Fairley's
antagonism towards himself.  Could that be the reason why James had
been willing to return to Mortlake Park in such haste and without
argument?

And what would make an actress as devoted to her career as Kitty
Fairley was choose to remain in London for the summer months, when most
people involved with the stage went to work in the provinces?  Could
James have been the reason?

And then, feeling abandoned by James, and having no one else to listen
to her complaints--all her friends having temporarily left London until
the reopening of the theatres in the autumn shad she written to Rachel,
playing on her emotions, her goodness, with words, in a play for
sympathy, implying that she was in ill health when, in fact, it was
nothing more than a fit of pique?

If this were indeed the case, then it was imperative that he returned
to Mortlake Park immediately and confronted James.  If there had been
any impropriety in his behaviour towards Kitty Fairley, then William
would have to intervene, because of his own growing intensity of
feeling for Rachel, which this unhappy and unfortunate affair
clarified--despite both her low social standing and her sister's
behaviour.

Although Kitty had never been her favourite niece, Lady Brayfield was
deeply conscious that she was her brother's beloved, eldest child, and
forced herself to be civil to Kitty with reluctant forbearance,
assuring her that she would receive proper care and attention in her
illness-4n whatever form it presented itself.  She ordered her to bed
immediately and sent for the physician.

When Rachel went to Kitty's room she found her already in bed, pale and
deflated, and was surprised to find her weeping quietly into her
pillows.  Deeply affected, she wondered at the reason for Kitty's
distress, thinking it might have been brought about by the severe
reception she had received from their aunt.  Immediately she sank on to
the bed beside her and took her hand.

"Don't distress yourself, Kitty," she said gently.  "You're going to
get well now we can look after you properly.  Aunt Mary has sent for
the doctor and when he has found out what is wrong with you and you
begin taking some medicine for your ailment, then you'll soon begin
feeling better."

Kitty looked at Rachel, her face blotched and her tears trapped in the
trembling corners of her mouth.  She wiped them away with her sodden
handkerchief,

sighing deeply, and Rachel thought the tears had released some of the
nervous tension that had gripped her earlier.

'l don't need the physician to tell me what is wrong with me," she
murmured miserably.

"What do mean?"

"Oh, Rachel.  l--I don't know how I can tell you.  You, who have
'always stood by me--so good--so honest."

"What is it?  Please tell me, Kitty?"  she asked, suddenly terrified of
what she might hear, of what Kitty had to tell her, fear taking hold of
her long before her sister revealed the horror of her words.  "What is
it?  What have you done?"

Taking a deep, determined breath Kitty met her eyes, as though she had
steeled herself for this moment.

'l--I am pregnant, Rachel.  I am with child.  " RaChel paled
perceptibly and said nothing, so shocked was she.  Not in her worst
fears had she imagined Kitty's illness to be anything like this--that
it had been nothing more serious than the early sickness which often
plagues some women in their early months of pregnancy.  She could feel
the awful truth stretching between them, the echo of her words hanging
in the air.

"Dear God, no," she whispered at length.  "What are you saying?  How
can you be?"

Kitty averted her eyes, so full of shame she was unable to look at her
sister.  "Are--are you sure?"

"Unquestionably."

"So---this is what was wrong with you.  This is why you have felt so
unwell all these weeks?"

Kitty nodded dumbly.

"How long?"

"About three months."

Trying to take stock of what she had been told, Rachel sat, looking at
her sister, at her bowed head, her face almost covered by her hair
hanging loose.

Reaching out, she gripped her arms.

"Look at me, Kitty."

Slowly, Kitty raised her head and looked into her eyes.

"How did it happen?  How did you get into this predicament?  Were you
violated--taken against your will?"

"No," she replied softly, with pain and despair.  "The fault was mine
as well as his."

"His?  Who was it, Kitty?  Who did this to you?"  For answer Kitty
lowered her head, shaking it slowly, and no matter how hard Rachel
questioned her and tried to coax out of her the identity of the man who
had brought her to this state of degradation, she could not get her to
relinquish his name.  But whoever he was, Rachel despised him.

"I loved him," Kitty whispered.  "I loved him so much--I shall never
love another as I did him--as I still do, as I shall to my dying day. I
believed in him--and I believed like a naive simpleton that he was
sincere when he said he loved me tools he an actor--a member of the
company at Drury Lane, Kitty?"

"No.  He--he's a gentleman.  l--I cannot tell you his name.  There will
be dire consequences if I make it known."

"I would not call him a gentleman to abandon you so callously in this
state," Rachel said bitterly.  "Is he married already?  Is that it?"

"No."

"And he knew about the child?  You told him?"

"Yes--but he didn't want to know.  He--he even asked me if I was
certain the child was his."

"And is it, Kitty?  Forgive me, but I have to ask.  It-is imperative
that I know everything in order to help you.  Has he reason to think it
might not be?"

Horrified, Kitty gasped.  "No.  No, Rachel.  There has never been
anyone else.  I swear it.  Please--you must believe that."

Rachel sighed and looked at her.  She did believe her.  She could see
the truth in her eyes.  "Yes, of course I do.  Is he- rich enough to
provide for the future of your child?"

"Yes."

"Then he should be made to face up to his responsibilities."

"How how can I tell Aunt Mary----and Father?"  Kitty whispered.  "Oh,
poor Father.  What can I say to him?"

"The truth.  They will both have to be told.  It cannot be
concealed."

"Father will be devastated."

"You gave little enough thought to Father when you left Oxfordshire,
Kitty," she said accusingly, in frustration, for the seriousness of the
matter was beginning to touch her nerves.  Immediately she regretted
her outburst, for nothing could be gained from bitter recriminations.
She sighed.  "I'm sorry," she relented.  "I should not have said
that."

"Why not?  I deserve it.  What you say is right, for 1 realise that
through my actions the whole family is likely to suffer for all time. I
must tell you that I have considered keeping it from Father not to say
a word to anyone and go away until after my confinement That way, no
one need ever know."

"And the child?"

"I--I could have it adopted."

"And could you live with that?"

Kitty shook her head sadly.  "I don't know."

"Why did you not remain with Mrs.  Gilbey?  At least there you had work
to support yourself."

"Mrs.  Gilbey was bound to find out about my condition and would have
turned me out.  I could not return to the theatre because of it either
so when Sal invited me to stay with her, I left."

"And if Lord Kingsley had not found you, Kitty, what were your
intentions?"

"I have to confess that I didn't know what to do.  I--I had no one I
could confide in.  I--I was waiting to speak to you."

"But what about the woman you were staying with--Sally Pearce?"

Kitty smiled grimly.  "There is only one cure for such an ailment in
Sal's book, Rachel.  It usually means a visit to a woman who will use
terrible methods to induce the pregnancy methods which would make your
hair stand on end.  Oh," don't look so shocked," she said when Rachel
gasped as realisation of what she meant registered and showed in her
eyes.  " It is a common enough occurrence among women in Sa!  "s
profession."

"Then I can only hope you have not considered this, Kitty," Rachel said
severely.  "It is a mortal sin--both wicked and criminal---and I have
to say that I wish you had chosen someone who did not belong to so
sordid a profession to stay with."

"Sal isn't so bad, Rachel.  Besides, she knows nothing else.  She was
driven to the life she leads by cruel poverty.  She is pretty and knows
what she is about.  Some nights, after she has been patrolling the
courts in the Temple and the Strand, she does very well for herself."

"How did you meet her?"

"I got to know her when she used to wait outside the theatre in Drury
Lane for the gentlemen to emerge from a performance.  I'm sorry,
Rachel," she sighed, "I can see I shock you, but I have seen places you
cannot ever begin to understand in your sheltered life, which in your
wildest imaginings you would never dream exist- squalid, revolting
places, where poverty, disease,.  hunger and violence go hand in
hand."

"I may not be as worldly as you are, Kitty," said Rachel, more sharply
than she intended, 'but I have no wish to see those places.  I can only
sympathise with those who are unfortunate enough to have to endure
them.  But do not forget that you chose to leave your family to make
your own way in life.

"What concerns me right now is the situation you have got yourself
into, how best to overcome it without causing an outright scandal--and
also how best to tell Father without bringing on a seizure."

Kitty's face crumpled at the thought of telling their father and what
it would do to him.  Once again she was overcome by a paroxysm of
weeping, covering her face with her hands in anguish, which moved
Rachel deeply, making her forget what Kitty had done--for at that
moment none of that mattered.  It was not a crime to love a man-but it
was a crime for him to use a woman as he had done and then abandon
her.

Every kind of emotion quivered through Rachel--revulsion, horror, even
rage, against.  this man who had wronged Kitty.  Filled with a
compassion beyond anything she had ever known, she reached out and drew
her sister's trembling, shuddering body into her arms, tender and
loving, to offer some measure of comfort to her tortured mind.

"Don't worry, Kitty.  Whatever happens we'll face it together.  There
must be no more talk of you going away, of Foundling Hospitals or that
other unspeakable alternative.  I will not hear of it."

Her body infused by her sister's love, by the comfort of her arms,
Kitty's anguish was eased.  She looked at her and a smile tugged at her
lips.

"Believe me, Rachel--I did not want to burden you with this."

No, thought Rachel, maybe what her sister said was true, but she knew
that, whatever happened; the burden was hers and the task of arranging
what had to be done would fall on her shoulders.

"I'm glad you did.  But we are going to have to be strong.  When Father
arrives, we will return with him to Oxfordshire and then decide what
has to be done."

They were interrupted by someone knocking gently on the door.  Rachel
rose to admit the doctor.


Chapter Ten

When Rachel left Kitty to go downstairs to her aunt, she could scarcely
believe what had happened.  How could Kitty have come to this?  She had
vivid memories of how she had once been---she was scarcely recognisable
now as her beautiful, vibrant, laughing sister who had craved
independence.

, She had left MeadowfieldLodge and the protection of her devoted
family full of the joys of life, with a confidence Rachel had envied.
The sad, pathetic woman she had become bore no resemblance to her.  The
harsh realities of the world she had chosen to Yve in had treated her
severely and taken the sparkle from her lovely eyes.

It was evident that her aunt knew about Kitty's condition the moment
Rachel entered the room, where the physician had just left her.  She
was just sitting, staring at nothing, her hands gripping the arms of
the large winged chair in which she sat.

The worst part was over and Rachel was thankful she had been spared the
ordeal of telling her, but it was clear it had come as a bitter and
terrible shock.

Her face was like a marble mask and she looked much older.  Rachel
moved towards her, waiting for her to speak.

How could Kitty do this to us--to your father?  " Lady Brayfield said
at length, speaking harshly.  " He has not been the same in spirit
since your dear mother died.  This will destroy him.  She has brought
this upon herself and must face the consequences.  Unfortunately, the
disgrace will affect the whole family.  l take it the man who got her
into this unfortunate mess refuses to marry her?  "

"Who is the father?  Has she told you, Rachel?"

"No.  She refuses to divulge his name,"

"I see," she said, her voice low and trembling with a quiet, controlled
anger.  "The manner in which she ingratiated herself into the
theatrical world was bad enough, but to give her favours so willingly
to a man outside wedlock is quite shocking, That she should defile her
family in this manner is both shameful and intolerable.  It is not to
be borne.

"As soon as your father arrives, she must return with him to
Oxfordshire immediately.  Neither Caroline or- Emily are to be told of
her downfall--or the servants, for they gossip.  It must be concealed
at all costs.  The whole family will suffer greatly for her actions and
I will not see my daughters' chances of making suitable marriages mined
by any fault of hers.  She has brought dishonour to us all."

Rachel hated hearing her aunt revile Kitty in this manner, because she
had fallen foul of society rules, but she could not blame her, for her
impeccable upbringing and society had made her what she was.

"No matter what she has done, Aunt, Kitty is all too well aware of the
impropriety of her conduct," said Rachel, her instinct being to defend
her sister.  "She is deeply ashamed and full of remorse.  She expects
to be dealt with severely."

"And she will be."

"I love Kitty dearly and she desperately needs my help.  She is my
sister and I cannot abandon her at this time when she needs me most."

Her aunt's eyes softened when they fell upon her face, which was
strained with anxiety and emotion, and she nodded.  "No, you do not
have it in you to do that, Rachel--although I have to say that it is
better than she deserves.  It is a pity Kitty has not inherited some of
your goodness.  I doubt she realises how lucky she is to have so
devoted a sister."

"I am sure she would do the same for me, Aunt."

Clearly her aunt did not agree with her, but she did not say so.

"Kitty chose to challenge and rise above the conventional way of things
and now she is paying the penalty of her misdemeanour," Lady
Brayfield/said.  "No matter how she scorns the opinion of society---a
society into which she was born and bred--however much she resents it,
she will find it hard to bear the stigma of raising an illegitimate
child.

"The child itself will suffer because of it.  Her chances of securing a
husband will be virtually nil, for there are few men who will take on a
fallen woman and acknowledge such a child.  If it is her wish to return
to the stage, then the child must be found adoptive parents---otherwise
your sister will lose the freedom that was so important to her."

"At the moment Kitty's hopes and ambitions of furthering her career in
the theatre have been blighted by her predicament.  As yet, it is too
early to say what she will do when the child is born."

"Maybe----but there is no room for complacency.  She must be sent away
until her confinement for, if the good name of this family is to be
upheld, there is no alternative.  After that, what happens to the child
is a matter for her and your father.  It is a disappointing way to
anticipate the arrival of a child into this family.

"However," she said, rising to her feet, 'we will speak of it no more
for the time being.  We have guests coming to dinner--Lord Kingsley and
Sir Edgar Mainwaring.  If our respectability is to be main-mined then
there must be no hint of Kitty's condition.  As far as everYone else is
concerned, she is suffering from a general malaise for which some time
spent in the country will prove beneficial.  Is that understood,
Rachel?  "

"Then go to your room and prepare yourself for dinner."

The evening got off to a bad start.  The moment Lord Kingsley arrived
with Sir Edgar Mainwaring, the instant he looked at Rachel, she knew
there was to be a continuation of the coldness between them, which had
begun the moment they had found Kitty in Covent Garden that afternoon.
His mouth did not smile and his dark eyes looked at her seriously; he
did not distinguish her with any marked interest throughout the whole
evening.

His reserve severely vexed her, although he was attentive and polite to
Lady Brayfield, whose manner was as it always was, for she refused to
allow Kitty's misdemeanour to affect her in any way.  On seeing her,
her guests would not guess from her appearance of the terrible secret
she concealed.

"I must thank you for sparing the time to look for my niece, Lord
Kingsley," said Lady Brayfield when they were all seated at the dining
table herself at the head of the table with Rachel and Lord Kingsley
seated facing each other on either side of her, Sir Edgar, Caroline and
Emily, happy to be gossiping among themselves, further along the table.
"We are all most grateful."

"Please--think nothing of it, Lady Brayfield," he answered.  "I had
little else to occupy my time and was happy to be of help."

"I hear your brother has shown up at last and that he has returned to
Mortlake Park.  Are you to remain in London long, Lord Kingsley?"

"No more that a day or so at the most.  I have pressing matters to
attend to at Mortlake."

"Oh!"  exclaimed Lady Brayfield, clearly disappointed.  "You are to
leave so soon?"

"Yes.  A matter of duty, Lady Brayfield, rather than will, for nothing
would give me greater pleasure than to remain in town."

Rachel met his eye, unconvinced by what he said.  How different he
sounded from the day at Ranelagh, when he had sought her out and
implied she was his reason for remaining in London.  She could only
conclude that now he was eager to be gone from her.

"My nieces are to return to Oxfordshire also during the next few
days--when my brother arrives, of course, after he has seen Harry
settled at Harrow."

"It is hoped Kitty will soon begin to feel better with a little country
air," explained Rachel, her expression tense, showing the nervous
strain she was under and her low spirits.  It was with difficulty that
she tried to induce a social lightness into her tone.

Lord Kingsley's eyes met hers across the table.

"You are eager to return to Oxfordshire, Miss Fair Icy

"Yes.  The entertainments of London have never held the attractions for
me that they do for most people, so I shall not be sorry to leave.
Besidesmy sister's health is all important to me just now."

"Of course."

"Tell me, Lord Kingsley, have you heard from your sister, Amanda?  How
she is enjoying her tour of Europe with her aunt?"  asked Lady
Brayfield.

"I had a letter from her only the other day.  She is in Venice at the
moment, which she is enjoying enormously.  She is quite beguiled by the
places she visits.  I believe they are to go on to Rome next.  And your
brother, Miss Fair Icy have you heard from him?"

"Stephen is still in the north----although I do not believe it will be
long before we see him back in Oxfordshire."

"Then I hope I shall have the pleasure of meeting him again---and also
hope my brother will take the opportunity of becoming better acquainted
with him.  I am sure they will have much in common.  James will
appreciate the benefit of his advice, !  know, for he is to make a
visit to the north himself shortly--to study the prospects of some
investments we intend to make in industries now we no longer have any
interests in the West Indies."

"I see.  Then I am sure Stephen will be more than happy to offer him
any advice he might ask for," said Rachel, trying to stifle the tis
appointment she felt over his cold, impersonal attitude towards her.
The tone of his voice sounded so formal, ceremonious, almost, as he
uttered commonplace conventialities like a polite stranger.  Her aunt
remarked on it later when her guests had departed.

"It was evident that Lord Kingsley was in low spirits this evening,
Rachel, no matter how politely he tried to conceal it.  It seems I was
mistaken in thinking he was beginning to show an interest in you, for I
don't think he spoke more than half a dozen sentences to you the whole
evening."

"Yes.  It would seem we have both been deceived, Aunt," said Rachel
stiffly, trying to compose her voice to conceal her emotions and
distress, which pained her terribly and was caused by his coldness
towards her.

"I could not help noticing that he seemed to avoid any conversation
with me at all.  He was definitely out of humour--although I do not
believe I have done anything to merit his disfavour.  But then,
considering our situation--and not forgetting Kitty's ungracious
attitude towards him earlier reit is hardly surprising.  In fact--I
would say he was in a hurry to be gone."

As she climbed the stairs to bid her sister good night, she asked
herself if she had been deceived in what she had perceived to be his
growing regard for her.  But how could she have been--for had her aunt
not been aware of it, and Caroline and Emily, also?

She sighed sadly.  If he had possessed any regard for her at all, then
because of Kitty's rudeness towards him he had made it plain by his
coolness towards her that she was beginning to see a decline in his
estimation of herself.

As was the case with Ralph Wheeler, had Kitty ruined all her chances of
forming a deeper relationship with him also, now that she realised she
was falling in love with him?  For--yes, she loved him, but there was
no joy in this discovery; she could see nothing in it other than
heartache and misery for herself.

In the light of her unhappy affair with Ralph, it was something she
would have elected to avoid at all costs.  But to have recognised this
feeling, to have savoured it and dared to dream--however briefly--and
to have lost it so soon, was a crushing blow.

Lord Kingsley had come into her life when she had been extremely
vulnerable, when she had been hurt and disillusioned, and he was so
very different to what Ralph had been.  But she was beginning to
realise that loving him would cause her more pain and
disillusionment--far worse than anything she had experienced when Ralph
had so cruelly left her.

As she stood on the threshold of Kitty's room, it was with 'a sad and
shaky determination that she vowed she would never be hurt again--not
by Lord Kingsley or any man.

Entering her sister's room, Rachel found her in bed, her face strained
and painfully sad, her pale cheeks showing traces of fresh tears.  She
looked sick at heart and so forlorn in the big four-poster bed.

Rachel sank down beside her, her sorely tried nerves stretched taut
but, on seeing her sister's continued misery, she smiled indulgently,
knowing that throughout the coming weeks and months she was going to
have' to pay her all the sisterly, tin obtrusive attention she was able
to, for she was deeply con cemed over the restless state of her mind.

"How are you feeling now, Kitty?"

"Never have I felt more miserable.  Neither Caroline or Emily have been
in to see me," she complained in a small tremulous voice, 'no doubt
forbidden to do so by Aunt Mary, fearful that I shall corrupt their
impressionable minds.  Didodid you have a pleasant evening with Lord
Kingsley?  " she asked hesitantly.

Rachel sighed deeply.  The whole evening had been a bitter
disappointment to her, which Kitty detected from the tone of her voice
and the misery in her eyes.  "No-not really.  After his coolness
towards me earlier, I am sure he only came out of politeness to Aunt
Mary.  It was evident to me that he could not Wait for the evening to
end."

"Oh, Rachel--I can see what you're feeling.  It's written all over your
face.  I'm so sorry.  I know I haven't helped matters."  She sighed
wistfully.  "Perhaps he does not want to be seen associating with a
woman whose sister is an actress of easy virtue."

Her words, spoken with much bitterness, caused Rachel to look at her
sharply and Kitty smiled thinly.  "Oh, I don't deceive myself that that
is what I am, Rachel, and if you must know I am deeply ashamed--but it
is too late to turn back the clock now, no matter how much I would like
to.

"However, if Lord Kingsley allows himself to be influenced by that,
then I have to say that he has much in common with his brother," she
said almost absently and with much bitterness.  It was only when she
met Rachel's sharp and all-at-once inquiring eyes, seeing her brow
crease in an attentive frown, that she blanched and looked nervously
away.

"Kitty, look at me," demanded Rachel, a terrible suspicion beginning to
form in some dark corner of her mind.  "What did you mean by that?"

"Why--nothing, nothing at all," Kitty replied quickly, noticing how her
sister's tone had acquired a touch of hardness.

"When have you seen Lord Kingsley's brother?  Are you so well
acquainted with him that you can liken the two of them?  Have you seen
him here in

"Why--I--yes on occasion," she answered reluctantly.

"Where?"  Rachel persisted, a cold feeling beginning to take hold of
her.

At---at the theatre.  He--he was often in the audience.  Although mI
have to say that he was already known to me before I left Ellerton,"
she said quietly.

Rachel fixed her eyes on Kitty's flushed face.  Tension vibrated in the
air between them.  "And how close did you become when you were at the
Drury Lane theatre, Kitty?  How close?"  she demanded relentlessly,
unconsciously reaching out and gripping her sister's arms in a vice
like grip in an attempt to force the truth out of her.

Kitty shrank back against the pillows, suddenly deflated.  "Very
close," she admitted with a sigh,

unable to conceal what their relationship had been from her sister any
longer.  "An attachment and intimacy was already formed between us
before I left Oxfordshire."

"James Kingsley is the father of your unborn child, isn't he, Kitty? Is
this is the reason why you were so antagonistic towards Lord Kingsley
earlier?"  Their eyes met and clashed.  "Yes," whispered Kitty.

The silence that fell between them was profound and complete.  There
was no movement from either of them--it was as if they had become
petrified in stone.  There was no blinking of an eye, no intake of
breath, nothing.  At first Rachel's astonishment and shock was so great
that she was lost for words, but at length she replied with caution,
her face deathly white, for nothing in her life had pained her as much
as the small one-syllable word her sister had uttered.

"How could you, Kitty?  How could you give your favours so willingly to
James Kingsley of all people?"  she reproached her harshly, unable to
withhold her anger, for she saw her own hopes and expectations--hardly
daring to imagine what might have been--come tumbling down about her.
But she must-not surrender to the full meaning of what this could mean
to herself just now.  She must put out of her mind what her future
might have been had this not happened to Kitty.

Rachel got up from the bed and paced the room, trying to come to terms
with this latest hurdle that was going to be the most difficult of all
to surmount.

"Does he know that you are carrying his child?  Have you told him?"

Kitty nodded dumbly.

"And I suspect that, when you told him, he refused to do the honourable
thing and marry you--leaving London in some haste.  Is that how it was,
Kitty?"

Tears sprang to Kitty's eyes at the frank reproach of her sister's
gaze.  "Yes.  We--we had a frightful argument and when he left me he
was quite wretched.  I--I heard he had left London to stay with an
acquaintance in Kent."

"From where he has since returned," said Rachel, recollecting that Mrs.
Gilbey had spoken to her of a bitter argument taking place between
Kitty and a gentleman friend, that he had left hurriedly and not
returned.

Kitty's eyes lit up with hope.  "To London?"

"Yes but he went directly to Mortlake Park.  If, as I remember you
saying, he has a fondness for you, then he may have refused to marry
you because he did not wish to brave his brother's wrath--which would
no doubt figure largely in his decision.  Although why he should need
his opinion or his approval is quite beyond me, for he is of age and
does not need his brother's consent to marry?"

"No," sighed Kitty, 'but he would want it and his good wishes all the
same.  Although I have to tell you that he was more concerned about how
his mother would react than Lord Kingsley.  His fear was always very
real where she was concerned--yet he saw her so seldom, for she always
made him quite miserable.  "

For reasons she could not explain, Rachel remembered the emotional and
strained undercurrent of something being very wrong at Mortlake Park.
That there was something very odd about Lady

Kingsley she already knew, but it was not something she wanted to go in
to just then.  The most important thing was what was to be done to
solve the problem facing them.  Taking a deep breath, she looked at
Kitty.

"It seems we have little choice but to appeal to Lord Kingsley.  After
all, I doubt he will want to become embroiled in a scandal any more
than we do.  I shall go and see him myself first thing in the morning,"
she said decisively.  "Although after the fuss he made when Stephen
sought his consent to marry Amanda, I very much suspect he will not
approve of an alliance between you and his brother, with or without a
child.

"Sadly, Kitty, your choice of profession and the way you shunned
society is very much against you in his eyes.  Also, your open attack
on him earlier will have done you no good, either.  You should have
adopted a sense of decorum.  You were too ready to slight him and
should have exercised more constraint.  However, something must be done
and quickly.  This is no time to be complacent."

"But is it wise for you to go and see him?"

"Why not?  You do want James to marry you, don't 'you, Kitty?"

"Yes, of course I do.  But is it not just a little hasty to go to Lord
Kingsley and confront him with this?  Should we not wait until Father
arrives in London--for him to deal with the matter?"

"No.  There may not be time.  Lord Kingsley is to leave for Mortlake
Park very soon.  We must act immediately."

Kitty stared in amazement at her sister, at the deter mined set of her
chin and the hard gaze of her eyes.

Are you not afraid of his anger?  From what I have seen of Lord
Kingsley, he is a formidable man.  '

"No," Rachel replied, with a touch of anger added to her bitterness.
"The prospect facing you--facing all of us-is too dreadful to
contemplate.  After what James Kingsley has done to you, he must be
made to face up to his responsibilities--and it is up to his brother to
make him see that he does."

The following morning Rachel got up in low spirits, the awful prospect
of what she knew she had to do having prevented any rest she might have
had.  As she dressed she was resolute in her decision to visit Lord
Kingsley at his home in Grosvenor Square, in the hope that she could
persuade him to force his brother to do the honourable thing and marry
Kitty thus saving her from total disgrace and the whole family from an
open scandal.

Her sights were no longer blunted by compassion, for her own feelings,
which were of no consequence in the light of Kitty's predicament.  The
preservation of her family's good name was paramount.

On the pretext of taking a drive in the park, Rachel purposely
concealed her true destination from her aunt Mary as she had no wish to
involve her in this matter.  It would most certainly create a degree of
unpleasantness between herself and Lord Kingsley, and might result in
an estrangement between Sir Edgar Mainwaring and Caroline--for her aunt
had

Kingsley she already knew, but it was not something she wanted to go in
to just then.  The most important thing was what was to be done to
solve the problem facing them.  Taking a deep breath, she looked at
Kitty.

"It seems we have little choice but to appeal to Lord Kingsley.  After
all, I doubt he will want to become embroiled in a scandal any more
than we do.  I shall go and see him myself first thing in the morning,"
she said decisively.  "Although after the fuss he made when Stephen
sought his consent to marry Amanda, I very much suspect he will not
approve of an alliance between you and his brother, with or without a
child.

"Sadly, Kitty, your choice of profession and the way you shunned
society is very much against you in his eyes.  Also, your open attack
on him earlier will have done you no good, either.  You should have
adopted a sense of decorum.  You were too ready to slight him and
should have exercised more constraint.  However, something must be done
and quickly.  This is no time to be complacent."

"But is it wise for you to go and see him?"

"Why not?  You do want James to marry you, don't you, Kitty?"

"Yes, of course I do.  But is it not just a little hasty to go to Lord
Kingsley and confront him with this?  Should we not wait until Father
arrives in London--for him to deal with the matter?"

"No.  There may not be time.  Lord Kingsley is to leave for Mortlake
Park very soon.  We must act immediately."

Kitty stared in amazement at her sister, at the deter mined set of her
chin and the hard gaze of her eyes.

"Are you not afraid of his anger?  From what I have seen of Lord
Kingsley, he is a fornidable man."

"No," Rachel replied, with a touch of anger added to her bitterness.
"The prospect facing you--facing all of us--is too dreadful to
contemplate.  After what James Kingsley has done to you, he must be
made to face up to his responsibilities--and it is up to his brother to
make him see that he does."

The following morning Rachel got up in low spirits, the awful prospect
of what she knew she had to do having prevented any rest she might have
had.  As she dressed she was resolute in her decision to visit Lord
Kingsley at his home in Grosvenor Square, in the hope that she could
persuade him to force his brother to do the honourable thing and marry
Kitty thus saving her from total disgrace and the whole family from an
open scandal.

Her sights were no longer blunted by compassion for her own feelings,
which were of no consequence in the light of Kitty's predicament.  The
preservation of her family's good name was paramount.

On the pretext of taking a drive in the park, Rachel purposely
concealed her true destination from her aunt Mary as she had no wish to
involve her in this matter.  It would most certainly create a degree of
unpleasantness between herself and Lord Kingsley, and might result in
an estrangement between Sir Edgar Mainwaring and Caroline--for her aunt
had high hopes of this relationship turning into a formal attachment.

For her visit to Grosvenor Square, Rachel chose a time unsuitable for
either Caroline or Emily to want to accompany her; they were to go to
Bond Street to make some purchases.

With her aunt's maid, Celia, in attendance, once she was seated in the
carriage--full of trepidation at her forthcoming confrontation with
Lord Kingsley--she ordered the driver to take her the short distance to
Kingsley House in Grosvenor Square.

Leaving Celia in the carriage, promising she would not be very
long--and ignoring the elderly lady's look of disapproval at the
impropriety of her calling on a gentleman all alone, reminding her that
her aunt would be most displeased if she found out--Rachel hurried from
the carriage and knocked on the door of Kingsley House, considering the
seriousness of her mission too important for her to be concerned about
the finer feelings of her aunt's maid.

As if someone had been waiting directly behind the door, it was opened
almost immediately.  She was admitted by a footman who escorted her
into a small reception room leading off from the hall, where he left
her to announce her arrival to Lord Kingsley.

Rachel waited in an agony of suspense and anticipation,.  so nervous
that she failed to take in the splendour of the house and its handsome
furnishings.  She moved to the window, looking out over the square, but
so great was her agitation and the turmoil within her that she failed
to absorb the view with any interest.

She was struck by the quietness of the house, which made her
nervousness more pronounced, and she breathed a sigh of relief when, at
last, on hearing a soft footfall on the carpet behind her, she turned
to face Lord Kingsley.


Chapter Eleven

Lord Kingsley moved towards Rachel where she stood, a pale and graceful
figure silhouetted against the shafts of light shining in through the
long window.  Her eyes remained riveted on his as he inclined his dark
head in a polite bow.

The expression on his handsome features was unreadable.  She had caught
him completely by surprise for he was preparing to.  leave for Mortlake
Park that very day, in the hope that his suspicions regarding any
relationship existing between his brother and Kitty Fair Icy were ill
founded.

"Miss Fair Icy I have to say this is an unexpected pleasure.  Although
whatever the significance of your visit, it must be of some importance
for you to come alone."

"Aunt Mary's maid has accompanied me.  She is waiting in the carriage
outside.  What I have to say should not take up too much of your
time."

"Where you are concerned, Miss Fair Icy any time spent with you is a
pleasure.  Although I have to tell you that I am preparing to return to
Mortlake Park shortly, so you are fortunate to find me still here.  Can
I offer you some refreshment?"

"No--thank you," she said stiffly.  Despite his polite words there was
a coldness to his manner and she felt uncomfortable beneath his direct
gaze.  "This is not a social call, Lord Kingsley."

"No, I did not think it was.  At least, will you not be seated?"  he
invited, indicating a chair.

"No.  I--I prefer to stand."

He nodded.  "As you wish," he said, moving to stand by the window with
his hands behind his back, facing her, sensing her agitation.  "Your
visit concerns your sister, does it not?"  he said, taking the
initiative.

"Yes.  I realise the impropriety of my coming to see you like this,
Lord Kingsley, and I realise I am taking a great deal upon myself by
doing so on so delicate a matter nd that it should have been left to my
father or my aunt.  But my father has not yet arrived in London and I
did not wish to involve my aunt.

"It is a matter that must be dealt with hastily in order to avoid a
scandal of the worst possible kind, which would be disastrous for both
our families.  There is the need for the utmost secrecy."

Rachel fell silent for Lord Kingsley had become thoughtful.  He nodded,
beginning to pace the floor slowly, in measured strides, increasing her
nervousness.  Watching him, never had she been as aware of the love
growing within her for this man as she was at that moment, but all her
feelings and thoughts for herself must be repressed for the present and
not allowed to intrude on the awful predicament Kitty had brought upon
the whole family.


Chapter Eleven

Lord Kingsley moved towards Rachel where she stood, a pale and graceful
figure silhouetted against the shafts of light shining in through the
long window.  Her eyes remained riveted on his as he inclined his dark
head in a polite bow.

The expression on his handsome features was unreadable.  She had caught
him completely by surprise for he was preparing to.  leave for Mortlake
Park that very day, in the hope that his suspicions regarding any
relationship existing between his brother and Kitty Faidey were ill
founded.

"Miss Faifiey!  I have to say this is an unexpected pleasure.  Although
whatever the significance of your visit, it must be of some importance
for you to come alone."

"Aunt Mary's maid has accompanied me.  She is waiting in the carriage
outside.  What I have to say should not take up too much of your
time."

"Where you are concerned, Miss Fair Icy any time spent with you is a
pleasure.  Although I have to tell you that I am preparing to return to
Mortlake Park

2O8

shortly, so you are fortunate to find me still here.  Can I offer you
some refreshment?  "

"No--thank you," she said stiffly.  Despite his polite words there was
a coldness to his manner and she felt uncomfortable beneath his direct
gaze.  "This is not a social call, Lord Kingsley."

"No, I did not think it was.  At least, will you not be seated?"  he
invited, indicating a chair.

"No.  I--I prefer to stand."

He nodded.  "As you wish," he said, moving to stand by the window with
his hands behind his back, facing her, sensing her agitation.  "Your
visit concerns your sister, does it not?"  he said, taking the
initiative.

"Yes.  I realise the impropriety of my coming to see you like this,
Lord Kingsley, and I realise I am taking a great deal upon myself by
doing so on so delicate a matter--and that it should have been left to
my father or my aunt.  But my father has not yet arrived in London and
I did not wish to involve my aunt.

"It is a matter that must be dealt with hastily in order to avoid a
scandal of the worst possible kind, which would be disastrous for both
our families.  There is the need for the utmost secrecy."

Rachel fell silent for Lord Kingsley had become thoughtful.  He nodded,
beginning to pace the floor slowly, in measured strides, increasing her
nervousness.  Watching him, never had she been as aware of the love
growing within her for this man as she was at that moment, but all her
feelings and thoughts for herself must be repressed for the present and
not allowed to intrude on the awful predicament Kitty had brought upon
the whole family.

"Well?  Pray continue," he said, with a touch of impatience.

Careful to guard her expression from any suspicion that she was
offended by his cool manner, Rachel forced herself to look calmly into
his eyes when he paused in front of her.

"It--it concerns my sister and your brother.  It would seem they have
formed a romantic attachment."  She looked at him curiously when she
saw there was no reaction from him, only a slight inclination of his
head.  "You do not appear surprised to hear this."

"No.  You have merely confirmed my suspicions."

"I have?"  "Yesterday when I left you, after bringing your sister from
Covent Garden, I knew her antipathy towards me could not be for
anything ill I might have done towards her, for, as you well know, I
had not made her acquaintance bfore coming to London.  That left James.
I know he has been seeing an actress of late--has formed a close
attachment, in fact--and I surmised it to be your sister and that her
anger towards myself had been brought about by his rejection of her."

Rachel stiffened.  "Rejection!  But how do you know he has rejected
her?"

"What other reason could there possibly b for her anger?  I am sorry if
she considers she has been ill used by my brother, Miss Fairley, but I
fail to s what can be achieved by your coming here to plead her
cause--which is a strange mission for a woman of such tender pride," he
said, irony marking his handsome features.  "Your sister is a mature
girl and completely self-possessed.  If she is nursing a broken heart,
then I am sure she will get over it in time."

Thrown off balance, Rachel stared at him in bewilderment.  "You--you
have it all wrong, Lord Kingsley.  I admit that I have come here to
plead her cause, as you so aptly put it, but not in the sense you mean.
Your brother has injured my sister in the most deplorable manner.  How
can you defend him?"

"James has been impressionable all his life.  Clearly your sister's
beauty and her charms robbed him of his senses.  I can only be thankful
he has at last seen the defects to her character for, as I know to my
cost and pointed out to you only yesterday, she has many."

"You speak of her with no more respect than a--a common trull from the
back streets' Rachel said hotly.

"That is where I found her," he reminded her cruelly.  "James and your
sister are so very different."

"Not so different, otherwise they would not have formed an
attachment."

Nevertheless, any alliance between them would be insupportable.  I hope
you are not here to beg me to look on such a match as favourable
because I cannot.  "

"Why---how dare you!"  said Rachel, stiffened by pride and growing more
and more angry by the minute at hearing Kitty slighted so outrageously.
His words had been devastatingly and crushingly employed.  She stepped
towards him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashing fire.

"You, sir, seem to go through life with a total disregard for the
feelings of others.  First, there was the matter of my brother Stephen
wanting to marry your sister--which you so callously rejected out of
hand, inflicting a great deal of pain on both parties--and now this.
You might have the courtesy to wait and hear what I have to say before
condemning Kitty outright."

William stopped and fixed her with a hard gaze, his manner suddenly one
of caution and calm.  "Well?  What is it?"

"You do not yet know the whole of it.  It is much worse than you could
possibly have imagined.  Kitty is with child---and--and your brother..
:'

She faltered, unable to finish what, she had to say.  William stared at
her, at first with some degree of astonishment, but then his eyes
became hard and glittered like pieces of coal when he realised the
implication of her words.

"Are you telling me James is the father?"  he asked with chill
precision.

Rachel nodded, swallowing hard.  "Yes."

"And you are certain of this?"  She nodded.

"And James?  Did your sister tell him of the child?"  "Yes."

"And did he acknowledge it as his?"

"I--I do not know for certain," she replied, although she did remember
Kitty telling her that James had questioned her as to whether or not he
was the father--no doubt in order to try and wriggle out of any
responsibility which might concern him.  "But it is clear you consider
her so lacking in morals that you do not believe the child to be
his."

William responded with a chilling smile, his voice hard and cutting,
his complexion pale with repressed anger.  "James's reputation may be
somewhat dubious, Miss Fair Icy but he is still a gentleman.  I am
certain that, if he believes himself to be responsible for lathering
your sister's child then, in all conscience, he would not have left
her.  Was the affair between them of short duration?"

"No.  Quite the opposite.  I believe it began before Kitty left
Ellerton.  Of her deep affection for your brother I have no doubt---and
she informed me herself that he was very much in love with her."

"In love," scorned William, turning to fix his angry gaze out of the
window.  "My brother's romantic affairs cannot be counted.  Why should
his affair with your sister be any different?.  She read too much into
it."

"Are you saying he was merely sporting with her?  If so, he is
completely lacking in moral principles and used her ill.  His
misconduct cannot be ignored."

He turned back to her.  "Just what do you want me to do, Miss Fair
Icy

"To intervene.  To return to Mortlake Park and insist on your brother
facing up to his responsibilities.  To do the honourable thing by my
sister and marry her.  If he does not, then I fear she will be mined
forever.  Through her own foolishness she has fallen into misfortune.
Sadly, she is no longer the same and I am grieved over the effect it
will have on my father--as you know, his failing health concerns us
deeply.

"It pains me greatly to come here in this manner--to humble myself
before you and beg your intervention.  But if that is what it takes,
then so be it for I cannot abandon my sister to fall even further into
a life of degredation."

"And I have no mind to foist a child on James with no proof that it is
his.  What if he has no longer any affection for your sister?"

"Kitty believes he has--for when he left her he was in.  a wretched
state.  She believes he left her so abruptly for reasons of his
own--reasons he did not explain, but which she suspects has something
to do with matters at Mortlake Park."

William nodded, thinking over what she had said, but not enlightening
her as to what it could be that had caused James to leave her so
abruptly.  "Kitty may be many things, but she is certainly not
promiscuous," Rachel continued, 'and would not sully herself unless she
loved the man.  Your brother has treated her in an infamous manner and
must be brought to account.  By his actions she will suffer for the
rest of her life---as will her entire family, if he does not own up to
the fact that he is the father of her child--while he escapes without a
blemish to his character.

"He has a duty towards her.  He cannot just walk away and leave her to
her fate.  But make no mistake, Lord Kingsley--if she were not carrying
his child, then I would say that to be delivered from any connection
with him at all would be a blessing indeed, but as it is, I cannot."

"After'her show of anger yesterday towards myself, I would have thought
that any connection with my brother was the last thing she wanted," he
retorted fiercely.

Rachel's composure finally snapped and she drew herself up proudly.
"You made your feelings on any alliance between our two families
perfectly clear to me when my brother sought your consent to marry your
sister.  It seems I was mistaken in you, Lord Kingsley.  I believed
that being a man of considerable pride, honour and conscience, you
would not allow your brother to ignore his responsibilities."

In an effort to regain his composure, William turned from her accusing
eyes, for again, as was the case with Amanda when Stephen Fair Icy had
asked him to consent to a marriage between them, he was confronted by
the terrible nature of his stepmother's illness: unbeknown to anyone
outside the immediate family and a few trusted servants, she had
suffered from defects to her mind for many years.

He had employed the services of a Mr.  Hopkins to make inquiries into
her family's medical background on the island of Antigua where she was
raised.  Until he received his report, guaranteeing there was no
hereditary insanity--that the illness would not be transmitted through
James and Amanda to any children they might have he must keep the
matter to himself.

However, if the child Kitty Fair Icy was carrying did prove to be
James's then, despite the problem of any insanity being passed on
should they marry, it was too late the deed was already done.

As Rachel stared at William's smooth back, with not a crease in the
mated hal of his black coat stretched across his shoulders, she had no
notion of what was passing through his mind.  Anger stirred inside her,
anger at herself for so readily succumbing to the attentions of Lord
Kingsley like a naY ve fool.

Had she not earned her lesson when Ralph had left her?  Perhaps, she
thought with bitter disappointment, Lord Kingsley had much in common
with his brother and men like Ralph, and had been sporting with her as
James had done with Kitty.

"I can see that, despite your friendliness and fine words of late, Lord
Kingsley, nothing has changed from our first meeting--and I can only
regret allowing myself to be so easily mollified by what I believed to
be a change in your attitude towards myself."

William turned and faced her and she was surprised to see that his
expression had softened and a sadness had entered the dark smooth
depths of his eyes.

"Please, make no mistake, I hold you in the highest regardmas I do your
father and your brother.  Your sister, however, is a different matter
entirely--and we will never agree on that, I fear.  There is little
about her character to recommend her to me."

"You are mistaken, sir.  Kitty has always been a sensible and amiable
girl, and her manner has always been open and affectionate.  Her anger
towards you was understandable, considering the manner in which she has
been treated by your brother.

"But tell me, Lord Kingsley, what is your objection?  If they do indeed
love each other, and your brother owns the child to be his, then what
obstacle, other than my sister's choice of profession--which has so
evidently discredited her in your opinio nm can there be to stop them
marrying?"

"None," William spoke resignedly and with much gravity.  Rachel's lips
twisted into a wry smile.  "But clearly you would oppose it.  Perhaps
it would be simpler for all concerned if Kitty were to have her
pregnancy terminated--which, I understand, is a method practised by
many women who are faced with little alternative."

William stared at her in horror, knowing full well to what she
referred, "No," he said, his eyes flashing with sudden fury, which
shocked Rachel and caused her to draw back from him.  "That would never
do.  I have respect for human life and would not condone an abortions
which is a crime in itself.  Has she considered this?"

"Yes, I am ashamed to say she has."

"Then you must inst il into her the dangers in this practice--to her
own life.  The methods and conditions in which abortionists work
resemble butchers' shops.  She must not do this."

He sighed, his tone softening.  I am a fair man, Miss Fair Icy and I
promise you that if I find my brother has a regard for your sister--and
if it is proved that the child is indeed his---then I shall not stand
in their way should they wish to marry.  As you pointed out
earlier----a scandal will not serve either of our families.  "

Well satisfied, although feeling desperately unhappy and humiliated by
her interview with Lord Kingsley, Rachel nodded, swallowing hard and
holding her head high as she strove to retain her dignity, for he would
never know how much he had hurt her by his severe condemnation of her
sister.

"Thank you.  I will take my leave of you now.  I shall not speak of
this again--and any dealings on this unfortunate affair in the future
will be done with my father.  Goodbye, Lord Kingsley, and thank you for
sparing me some of your valuable time."

Seeing the tears of rage and misery she was trying hard to repress in
her lovely eyes as she was about to turn away, William was disarmed and
moved quickly towards her, his features grave but calm, his anger gone
as he was possessed by an urgent desire to protect that which she alone
had aroused in him.

He could not allow discord between their families to destroy the strong
emotions growing between them, emotions neither had spoken of but were
each aware of, emotions they were allowing to unfold gently, to grow in
intensity, until the moment that would bring them ultimate fulfilment.
However, Rachel was too shaken and angry to be comforted by the
softening she saw in his features.

"Please," he said quietly, placing his hand on her arm, 'don't be in
such a hurry to leave.  "

"I--I must.  We have nothing else to say to each other," she said,
struggling to keep her tears under control, fighting the longing to
respond to the firm pressure of his hand on her arm.

"You cannot-leave like this.  You are upset."  "With little wonder."

"You are angry with me.  Please believe me when I say that I have no
desire to quarrel with you.  I apologise if I sounded harsh, for I
would never want to cause you any pain."

"How-can you expect me to accept your apology when you speak so ill of
my sister?  Do you expect me to thank you politely when, by insulting
Kitty, you have insulted my whole family?"

"No--not your family.  Your sister, maybe, but never you.  It was not
my intention to offend you."

"Offend!  Insult!"  she cried, her emotions threatening to get the
better of her if she stayed much longer.  "It matters little to me one
way or the other.  I think you made your feelings abundantly clear."

"Again I apologise--for I desire your friendship, and more, above all
else.  I regret most sincerely that our families have encroached too
much on both our lives to such an extent that we are in danger of
forgetting that which is important to each of us."

"How can you talk of our continued friendship after this?  Your
condemnation was harsh, the nature of it insulting.  My sister's
comfort and well-being is paramount to me just now.  I have a duty to
do what I can to see her through this difficult time."

"Duty!  A heavy burden to bear, Miss Fairley, but your commitment to
your family is one of the things I admire about you.  You have every
right to be angry but please believe me when I tell you that most of my
anger is directed against my brother.

"But I have to say that I am puzzled, for James and I have always been
close, and it goes against his character for him to abandon a young
woman in such a wretched manner--if he is responsible for the
predicament she finds herself to be in, that is.  But come--we cannot
allow this to cause enmity between us.  We cannot allow our friendship
to be ruined by this unfortunate business."

"There can be nothing between us while this affair remains
unresolved."

"And I have told you that if it is Proved beyond doubt that the child
your sister is carrying is indeed my brother's, then feel confident
that I will do every thing in my power to legitimi se their union and
reduce the anxiety of your whole family."

"How can I know that?"  she cried wretchedly, his voice---so gentle, so
soothing, suddenly, devoid of all anger and mockery and sounding so
comforting--weakening her.  Because of the immense strain she was
under, the tears she had struggled to keep in check finally spilled
over her lashes and began flowing unchecked down her cheeks.

"Knowing how distasteful any connection with my sister is to you for
her then to become a member of your immediate family--I have every
reason to doubt what you say.  How do I know you are not lying to
placate me now?"

In answer to her question, with a sigh William lowered his head down to
hers, feeling her breath warm his cheek, and before Rachel knew what he
was about he had placed his mouth on hers, kissing her long and deep,
taking his time and savouring the moment, feeling her lips part and
yield beneath his.  His lips were warm and firm and she was so
astonished--and at the same time filled with confusion--by his action,
that she did not object.

He raised his head and looked down at her, at her tears frozen on her
cheeks and her magnificent eyes looking wonderingly into his.  "Now ask
yourself if I was lying, Miss Faifiey."

He smiled crookedly, his eyes lingering on her lips, parted and moist
and vulnerable, as if he were about to repeat the action--which was
exactly what he had in mind.  "I do not dispense my kisses
lightly--and, like my opinions, once uttered, they cannot be
retracted," he said quietly, his lips so very close to hers.

This time he caught her up into his arms, imprisoning her against him
in a tight embrace so there was little she could do but yield to his
desire, as again his lips came down on hers.  Hot and cold waves swept
over her as she closed her eyes and swayed in his arms, feeling the
hard strength of his body pressed to hers.

His kiss was devastating, firm and demanding, stealing away any measure
of resistance she had left, blotting out her reason for coming to his
house, for nothing mattered at that moment but the splendour, the joy,
of being in his arms.

As her arms stole upwards and fastened about his neck, she did not
struggle, she had no will to--was this not what she had wanted to
happen since their coming together on the terrace at Mortlake Park?

His mouth was so warm and inviting after the chill she had endured. She
was so starved of love that she responded willingly, unresisting,
drowning, dissolving against him.  He kissed her eyes, her cheeks,
sliding his lips down the white flesh of her throat before seeking her
mouth once more, eager to receive her kiss.

Feeling his hands stealing up her back to the warmth at the back of her
neck, his fingers firm, strong, and yet caressing in a way that sent
her senses reeling, Rachel trembled with a desire so great she thought
she would die of it.  He filled her body with a liquid fire that melted
the freezing core in her heart, raising a hunger she had tried to deny
for so long,

and she yearned with a craving she had never known before for love.

When at last he withdrew from her lips, he raised his head and looked
down at her face.  Rachel lowered her head in confusion, the delicate
pink flush on her cheeks screened by the brim of her bonnet, beneath
which her dark hair gleamed, thin strands having come loose by his
caress trailing about her neck.

She felt so very vulnerable, completely at his mercy, as if she hovered
on the brink of passion--and the excitement of the unknown, the
expectancy of it, almost overwhelmed her.

As if William divined her thought, with one arm still about her he
placed the fingers of his other hand gently beneath her chin and turned
her face up to his," her lash-shadowed eyes full of appeal.

He looked down at her, filled with a deep love and desire that he had
been content to leave to unfold as their knowledge of each other grew,
for it was too Precious, too important to hasten.  His thoughtful gaze
caressed her face, searching and probing the misty depths of her
eyes.

"Never, in all my life, have I seen eyes such as these---as lovely as
these nor have there been lips as tempting since Eve's in the Garden of
Eden.  I love you, Rachel Fairicy---and I believe you love me too.  I
can see confirmation in your eyes--I felt it in your response to my
kiss.  Your lips do not lie."

They stood looking at each other, as if the whole world had paused in
its turning to contain this special moment.  William spoke with so much
conviction that Rachel was unable to do anything other than stare at
him in wondering awe, unable to believe he had said those things---but
what he said was true.

Despite her determination never to fall prey to her emotions again
after being cast aside by Ralph, Lord Kingsley's kiss had been her
undoing.  The way her body had quickly and wantonly responded to his
lips, greedily craving for more, told her that, where he was concerned,
she did not have the power or the will to control them.

She did love him, desperately, and like him she had been happy to let
the love growing between them unfold.  Because they felt the same, with
the same longings, because they were both aware of the other's feelings
and emotions, burning like a living flame between them, then there had
been no need for words, no need for analysis or explanation, for they
were bound by their own strange code of silence, content to wait until
the moment was right for it to be realised.

What had just happened had flung open a door between them, allowing
sunlight to flood in, revealing their true feelings for each other and
covering Rachel in its luminous glow, so that William was almost
blinded by it.  Never had he seen such perfection, such radiance in any
one person.  She was like a flower opening and unfolding and stretching
towards the light, her eyes glowing, her lips parted to reveal her
shining, perfect teeth.

"Come," he said softly, restraining the urge to kiss her once more.
"Are you going to deny your feelings that are so very obvious to me?"

To regain some semblance of sanity, for she was still attuned to his
kiss, Rachel stepped back from him, not having realised she had been so
transparent.  But no matter how much she longed for him to take her in
his arms, to feel his lips on hers once more, setting her skin tingling
and her blood on fire, she knew she must deny the attraction drawing
them closer together, the image of Kitty and her own fear of allowing
herself to be hurt again standing between them.

Until she could Overcome her own personal fears regarding her emotions,
and until everything had been resolved between their two families, then
she could not allow herself to weaken to these new sensations Lord
Kingsley had awoken in her pleasant, sensual sensations, which she
longed to savour and enjoy, which were in danger of making her forget
her true reason for coming to Kingsley House today.

Seeing the doubt cloud her eyes and aware of her hesitation, William
frowned, becoming troubled by her reticence.  "Why--what is this?  Why
do you hesitate?  Have I expressed myself badly?"

"No," she sighed, speaking softly.  "I--I think you expressed yourself
very well.  It is just that there are certain matters I cannot ignore
at this present time.  Please--you must understand--that I--I cannot
allow my emotions to cloud my mind."

William wanted to reach out and shake the stubbornness out of her.
"Then perhaps you have another favour to ask with regard to your
sister," he said, his growing disappointment quickly turning to anger,
'who seems to have an irritating habit of penetrating and dominating
your thoughts so that you can think of little else.  "

Stung by his words, which were like a douche of cold water, returning
them to an atmosphere of unrest and to their earlier constraint,
filling Rachel's heart with anguish and sorrow, she stepped back,
clinging to her sudden spark of anger like a shield to her emotions,
pitted against his will and her overwhelming need for this man she was
finding exceedingly difficult to deny.

"No.  But I am happy to learn that you have not forgotten my reason for
coming here."  Her tone sounded harsh, but inside she was feeling
wretchedly unhappy.  "You cannot order my life as you do your sister's
and brother's.  No matter what you feel--and whatever you have read
into our relationship--if you believe there can be anything between us
other than friendship until this unfortunate affair has been resolved,
then you are mistaken.  Let it be enough for now for there to be one
connection between our families."

William's face became suddenly pale and grim.  His eyes narrowed and
darkened and his black eyebrows drew together in a straight line.  "You
have every right to be angry regarding my brother's treatment of your
sister--but that has nothing to do with what is between us.

"If my declaration has upset you, then forgive me.  I did not wish to
add to your worries; you are quite right--you have enough to occupy
your mind at this time.  However, having declared myself thus, and
strongly doubting the truth of your denial if denial it was--then I had
hoped for a more honest answer from you.  As it is, I can only regret
my own declaration, which deserved better than to be rejected in such
terms as these."

Rachel felt by the coldness of his voice and the very intonation of his
words that he had become a her in his arms, to feel his lips on hers
once more, setting her skin tingling and her blood on fire, she knew
she must deny the attraction drawing them closer together, the image of
Kitty and her own fear of allowing herself to be hurt again standing
between them.

Until she could Overcome her own personal fears regarding her emotions,
and until everything had been resolved between their two families, then
she could not allow herself to weaken to these new sensations Lord
Kingsley had awoken in her pleasant, sensual sensations, which she
longed to savour and enjoy, which were in danger of making her forget
her true reason for coming to Kingsley House today.

Seeing the doubt cloud her eyes and aware of her hesitation, William
frowned, becoming troubled by her reticence, "Why--what is this?  Why
do you hesitate?  Have I expressed myself badly?"

"No," she sighed, speaking softly.  'l--I think you expressed yourself
very well.  It is just that there are certain matters I cannot ignore
at this present time.  Please--you must understand--that I--I cannot
allow my emotions to cloud my mind.  "

William wanted to reach out and shake 'the stub-born ness out of her.
"Then perhaps you have another fay our to ask with regard to your
sister," he said, his growing disappointment quickly turning to anger,
'who seems to have an irritating habit of penetrating and dominating
your thoughts so that you can think of little else.  "

Stung by his words, which were like a douche of cold water, returning
them to an atmosphere of unrest and to their earlier constraint,
filling Rachel's heart with anguish and sorrow, she stepped back,
clinging to her sudden spark of anger like a shield to her emotions,
pitted against his will and her overwhelming need for this man she was
finding exceedingly difficult to deny.

"No.  But I am happy to learn that you have not forgotten my reason for
coming here."  Her tone sounded harsh, but inside she was feeling
wretchedly unhappy.  "You cannot order my life as you do your sister's
and brother's.  No matter what you feel--and whatever you have read
into our relationship--if you believe there can be anything between us
other than friendship until this unfortunate affair has been resolved,
then you are mistaken.  Let it be enough for now for there to be one
connection between our families."

William's face became suddenly pale and grim.  His eyes narrowed and
darkened and his black eyebrows drew together in a straight line.  "You
have every right to be angry regarding my brother's treatment of your
sister--but that has nothing to do with what is between us.

"If my declaration has upset you, then forgive me.  I did not wish to
add to your worries; you are quite rightmyou have enough to occupy your
mind at this time.  However, having declared myself thus, and strongly
doubting the truth of your denial if denial it was-then I had hoped for
a more honest answer from you.  As it is, I can only regret my own
declaration, which deserved better than to be rejected in such terms as
these."

Rachel felt by the coldness of his voice and the very intonation of his
words that he had become a stranger that he had withdrawn from her, and
it was of her doing.

Immediately she regretted her harsh words and was swayed by his anger.
She felt a sudden weakening in her resolve-and also a frightening
helplessness bordering on utter despair.  She wanted to reach out to
him, to touch him and beg his forgiveness, but such a thing was so very
difficult for her to do.  Sighing deeply, she lowered her eyes to hide
the misery in their depths.

"I am sorry if I offended you.  It was not intentionally done--and'I am
not insensible to your declaration--truly--and--I have certainly not
rejected you quite the opposite, in fact."

Her words were spoken softly, with a doleful resignation and with such
humility that it caused William to look at her with involunta/y
tenderness.  She looked so piteous, so defenceless, that he sensed her
distress.  He sighed deeply.

"And do you still deny that what is in your heart does not equal my
own?  That you love me 'also?"

Rachel's eyes were full of tenderness and pain as she looked at him.
Swallowing down the tears which were almost choking her, she shook her
head.  "No.  I do not deny it.  I cannot deny what I know to be the
truth."

"Then perhaps if YOu were to set aside the differences that exist
between other members of our families, to forget them for once and tell
me what is in your heart--what it is that has caused you to raise a
barrier against your emotions, which, I suspect, are of a more personal
nature where I am concerned--then there might be better understanding
between us.

Has it anything 'to do with a former love--and how deeply he hurt you
when he let you down?  " he asked gently.

Rachel stared at him, her lips quivering slightly, her eyes swimming
with unshed tears.  "You--you know?"

"Yes.  Maybe if you were to tell me about him, it would ease the pain
he caused you and help me to understand why you are so afraid to give
vent to your true feelings--and your propensity to hide them away in
your concern for others."

"I--I'm sorry.  I did not realise I did---and, any-how---there is
little to tell and--and I am sure you will think I have been extremely
foolish," she said hesitantly,

"No no.  Never that.  Come, tell me," he prompted gently.  "In doing
so, it may cease to be the tragedy it was and you will see that life is
for living---not brooding over what might have been."

"I don't," she said, moving away from him towards the hearth so he
could not see her face.  "My concern has 'always been to avoid being
hurt in the same manner again."

William stood very still, watching her, and it seemed that her slender
shoulders drooped and bowed, which indicated to him that her hard-held
de fences were beginning to crumble.  After a moment she turned and
looked at him, reading gentle concern in his dark eyes, and knowing
instinctively that he would sympathise with her.  Her face became set
and sorrowful, her eyes a million miles away and clouded with memory.

"Perhaps you're right and there might be better understanding between
us if you know more about me, about the shame I was forced to endure
when the man I loved---or thought I loved rejected me for another.  It
is not a subject I find easy to talk about; it affected me deeply at
the time."

"Please try.  I am not as insensitive as you might think to your
feelings."

"Thank you," she murmured, slowly and quietly beginning to give him an
account of her unfortunate affair with Ralph Wheeler.

"When I was eighteen years old, I was' on the threshold of marriage to
a man I adored.  At that time I thought he was the most handsome man I
had every seen--who said he loved me above all else--and then he had
gone.  It is an age-old story, I know," she sighed, 'but imagine how I
felt when I discovered he had married someone else--when I discovered
how he had lied and deceived me, when I knew I would never see him
again.  I did not think I could possibly go on living without him.

"It was only as time went by that I began to see the whole affair in a
different light and realised how foolish and incredibly naive I had
been---that I was nothing but an ignorant girl."

She lowered her head when tears of misery again began to swim in her
eyes.  On seeing this, a flicker of pain crossed WillJain's face

"Would I be.  correct in assuming the nature of your sister's
profession had something to do with it?"

Unable to deny the truth, Rachel nodded, swallowing down the hard lump
in her throat.  "His family belonged to the aristocracy, you
understand, and became set against any connection with me or my family
when they found out about Kitty."

"So--at that time she damaged your chances of marrying well, it would
seem," said William, unable to keep the bitter irony out of his voice
but which, in her misery, Rachel seemed not to notice.  She sighed, not
wishing to sound disloyal to Kitty, but the look in her eyes told
William this was so.

"At first I thought it was all a mistake--that the people who told me
of his sudden marriage to some one else were lying--and that he would
get in touch."  "But he didn't."

"No.  If he had truly loved me, then he would have defied his family.
Nothing would have kept us apart.  But he made no effort to see me no
offer of an explanation for his conduct.  Nothing."

"And did you see him again?"

"Once.  He.  he was with his wife," she said quietly and with
difficulty.  "He-he looked at me as--as if he didn't know me like a
complete stranger.  That was when I knew I would never forgive him. 
Oh, the pain and anguish I had felt over his rejection of me was
lifted---but there was a part of me he had brought alive that
shrivelled and died.  That was when I came to hate him, feeling that I
could never allow myself to fall in love again.  I could not bear to be
hurt like that a second time."

Having listened to her simple story of pain and humiliation, William's
heart began to melt with pity, drawing him from his own desolation, and
his arms ached to hold her, but he must let her go on.

"So--you locked your heart and threw away the key," he said quietly.

"Yes something like that."

"But that was a long time ago and you are no longer the sensitive,.
naive girl you were then.  Do you still think of him?"

"No, not very often.  In fact, looking back and feeling some of the
emotions I believed had died being rekindled by you then I believe the
pain I suffered was a result of humiliation and hurt pride rather than
the love I believed I felt for him," she replied, her eyes meeting his,
seeing a warm light shining in their dark depths.

She became shy suddenly, which brought a flush to her cheeks and caused
a faint smile to play at the corners of her mouth.  "In fact---perhaps
you were right.  Talking about the unpleasant affair might have
exorcised him from my thoughts completely."

"Let us hope so," William said, moving towards her.  Placing his finger
gently beneath her chin, he turned her face up to his and looked down
into her glorious eyes.  "Do not judge all men to be the same after one
unfortunate encounter.  The man must have been a fool to reject you for
another.  I meant what I said when I told you that I love you.  I beg
you to believe that."

"Yes--I do.  I do believe the sincerity of your words--and--I love you
also, more than I have allowed myself to realise.  But perhaps now you
can understand why I am on my guard against men's wiles--why I am so
distrustful and why I have been so afraid of falling in love again."

'l fully understand your misery, but falling in love is not an emotion
easily controlled.  We cannot order our hearts as we would our lives.
"

The warmth in his voice was genuine, causing a joy to flood Rachel's
heart.  " I know.  I am beginning to realise that now.  Feeling
awkward, suddenly, and disturbed by his close proximity and the way he
was studying her, his gaze focusing on her lips, she took a step back,
for the powerful masculinity he exuded made her feel altogether too
vulnerable.

"Please--you must excuse me," she said breathlessly, trying to distract
her thoughts from his kiss, reading the warm glow in his eyes as his
gaze dropped to her breasts, which made her feel quite naked.  She
thought he was about' to take her in his arms again--the impulse was
written so clearly on his face.

Turning from him, she moved towards the door, knowing that if she did
not leave she would be powerless to prevent him from taking her in his
arms again and rendering her defenceless--at a time when she needed all
her wits about her.  'l--I must be going otherwise Celia will get tired
of waiting and come looking for me.  Goodbye, Lord Kingsley, and I hope
you have a pleasant journey back to Oxfordshire.  "

With an effort of will, William controlled himself from following her
to the door.  He smiled crookedly, a knowing light gleaming in the
depths of his dark eyes, aware of her reason for taking flight and
touched by her natural innocence, which, at last, he had succeeded in
laying wide open.

"You will give some thought to what I have said?"

"Yes--yes," she breathed.  "We have both said things we need to think
about."

With her hand on the door knob, she turned one last time and looked at
him.  Their eyes met briefly and she dropped a graceful curtsey.  His
only answer was a slight bow before she turned and left the room.

Within the hour of Rachel's departure from Kingsley House,
William--wrestling with the dilemma that her visit had presented
him--left for Oxfordshire, more anxious to speak to his brother than he
had ever been in his life.  At the same moment as he was leaving
London, Rachel's father arrived at Brayfield House, unprepared for the
tragedy that awaited him.  The following day he, too, left for
Oxfordshire with his two daughters.

Chapter Twelve

When an angry William arrived at Mortlake Park it was to find James the
most miserable and wretched of men---and he very soon discovered the
reason for it when he challenged him about his relationship with Kitty
Fairley.  James did not deny anhing; in fact, he appeared exceedingly
relieved to have it out in the open at last.

Having had time to reflect on his despicable treatment of Miss Faidey,
he was filled with a guilt so acute that when William arrived he was on
the point of returning to London forthwith to attempt to repair the
wrong he had done her, and to beg her forgiveness--although, he told
his brother miserably when they were partaking of a glass of wine
before dinner, he would not blame her in the slightest if she refused
to see him.

"She is hardly likely to do that whilst she is carrying your child,"
William replied harshly.  "The child is yours, James?  Do you
acknowledge it as so?"  "Yes.  Absolutely."

William looked at him in exasperation, angry because his worst fears
had at last been confirmed.  "You knew who she was, that she was the
virtuous niece of Lady Brayfield, coming from a decent, respectable
family.  By embarking on such a casual relationship with a girl
ignorant to the world as it is known to you, you were completely
indifferent to her feelings and reduced her station in life
considerably.  You showed her no respect."

"When you left for the West Indies, I admit that, with nothing to
employ my time other than pleasure and having become acquainted with
Kitty through Lady Brayfield, I found her company extremely amiable."

"And, it would seem, obliging," added his brother, his voice heavy with
sarcasm.

"It was plain she took a fancy to me--and I found her pleasing enough,
at first.  I must confess her attentions flattered my vanity, although
I had no intention of returning her regard.  I am ashamed that, at the
time, my attentions were, to say the least, far from honourable, and I
was heedless of the consequences of such a relationship.  I was
careless of just how strong,.  how sincere, her feelings were for me;
for that I am deeply sorry.

"Our friendship ended--or so I thought at the time--when she left
Ellerton to join a theatrical company in Bath.  It was not until I saw
her again at the Dmry Lane theatre that I realised how much I'd missed
her."

"And you renewed your relationship?"

"Not at first.  On the advice of my friends, I resisted her attractions
and continued to follow my senseless amusements, but, eventually, we
were drawn together and I realised how much I had come to love her.  I
could no longer resist her--and in those early days of her coming to
London I have never been happier."

"And the child?"

"When Kitty told me, my reaction and the things I said and accused her
of are unpardonable.  When I left her, in my anger I did not realise
how much I had injured her--but I was angry at myself, mostly, for
being such a cad as to place her in a situation which could embarrass
us both.

"Had things been different, I would have risked your disapproval and
married her--but circumstances concerning my mother, which you are well
aware of, made me afraid and prevented me from doing so.  I should not
have left her in the manner I did.  I did her a great wrong--and my
neglect of her since has been inexcusable.

"I cannot defend myself and I am deeply ashamed for any embarrassment
my conduct has caused you and her family.  I behaved in the most
despicable manner imaginable, and since, I have been the unhappiest,
the most Wretched of men."

"Then I can only hope you have learnt from your folly, James," said
William on a softer note, for this was the first time he had heard his
brother speak his mind so profoundly, with patience and sense.

At last he was beginning to see that which he had despaired of ever
seeing that his brother was growing up.  For a time, idleness and
boredom had made him prey to all the vices rife in London, but his
affair with Kitty Fair Icy and the deep and abiding love he clearly
felt for her--no matter how low his own opinion of her was--made him
see that some of the values which had sustained the Kingsleys through
the ages had rubbed off on James after all.

Perhaps with the responsibilities of a wife and child--and the part he
was to play in the family's new investments in the industrial north
some substance and purpose would be added to his life.

"You do realise it is probable that the child will be tainted with the
same illness that affects your mother, James?"

He nodded, facing him squarely.  "Yes.  However, it is too late to
worry about that now.  It is done and I have a responsibility towards
Kitty."

William smiled.  "Then the only way you can acquit yourself of your
guilt is to marry her as soon as it can be arranged."

The ease and lightness with which William uttered these words rendered
James momentarily speech-less---although he had no way of knowing just
then that his brother's concern was to see the matter resolved amicably
for the sake of Rachel Fair Icy whom he had every intention of making
his wife.

No matter how many angry words had passed be tweed them on their last
encounter in London at Kingsley House, after her moving tale of her
rejection by a past love, had she not admitted the love she felt for
him?  And then there had been their kiss and her complete abandon in
his arms.  Once this matter of James and her sister was out of the way,
there would be nothing o prevent their relationship progressing.

"You--you mean," James said at length, in genuine astonishment, "I have
your approval to go and see her?"

"Yes.  I have reason to believe she will be returning to Meadowfield
Lodge very soon.  I have tremendous respect for her father, James, and
do not want this unfortunate affair to come between us, so you will
repair the damage you have done by going to see him the moment he an'
ives back in Ellerton and asking him for his daughter's hand in
marriage."

With her father and Kitty, Rachel returned to Meadowfield Lodge.  She
was thankful that, despite his ill health, her father had managed to
settle Harry in at school and that he was not at home to suffer the
gloom and despondency which descended on the house on their arrival,
and prevailed for quite some time.

Her father was extremely shaken and deeply affected by what had
befallen his eldest daughter---and doubly so when Kitty told him the
identity of the father and that he had refused to do the right thing by
her.

Lady Brayfield had been in no way sorry to see them leave London, so
worried was she that Kitty's condition would become generally known and
become the subject of gossip among her, many friends.  It would
undoubtedly result in Caroline and Emily having to partake of Kitty's
disgrace and ruin any chance they might have of making a suitable
marriage.

Indeed, so low were her spirits since learning of Kitty's downfall that
Lady Brayfield told Rachel she did not intend remaining long in London
herself.  Because of the poor state of her brother's health, she was
also extremely concerned about the shock the news had been to him, and
how he was going to cope with the situation once he was back at
Meadowfield Lodge.

Since her meeting with Lord Kingsley at his house in London, Rachel
cherished the moment they had shared in each other's arms, when she had
been shaken to the very core by the fierce passion he had aroused in
her.  If it had not been overshadowed by the dreadful situation that
existed between his brother and Kitty, how different things would be
between them now.

Because of the identity of the two families involved in the affair
between James and Kitty, there was an awkwardness to the whole
situation---and, ashamed as George Fairley was to even think such a
thing, he could no more blame James Kingsley for what had befallen his
daughter than he could her.  However, he had a duty towards Kitty and
could not sit at home and ignore what had happened, hoping it would go
away.  It had to be faced and quickly, and with as little
unpleasantness as possible.

Despite the pain and discomfort he suffered from his illness--further
weakened by the racking cough that had persisted since his return from
London---he would go to Mortlake Park to see Lord Kingsley and his
brother, to.  see if something could be salvaged from the whole,
unhappy mess.

If James Kingsley refused to acknowledge the child as his, then George
would have to consider sending Kitty away until after her confinement.
The very idea of having to resort to such subterfuge saddened him
deeply, but he had Rachel to consider.  If she hoped to make a suitable
marriage in the future, then it must be concealed.

On her return to Meadowfield Lodge, Kitty began putting on weight and
colour returned to her cheeks.  Youth and her family would see her
through this difficult time, but whereas she looked the picture of
health, Rachel was pale and her eyes lacked lustre.  However, her
treatment of Kitty could not be faulted.  It was one of care and
consideration as she ministered to her every need placated her when she
wept, and tried to soothe her in times of fretful anger.

How their father wished Kitty would show the same consideration towards
her sister, for it was plain to him that Rachel struggled on with great
fortitude.  He was not misled by her smiles when in the company of
others; her suffering had not gone unnoticed by him--although he
suspected this had nothing to do with Kitty's predicament, but with
Lord Kingsley, for he understood from what his sister had told him that
an attachment had been formed between them.

If this was indeed so, then he couldn't be happier--he only hoped
Kitty's unfortunate situation had done nothing to jeopardise this.
Rachel had already suffered one broken heart.  If the same thing
happened again, how would she ever endure it?

Rachel was alone with her father in the drawing-room when James
Kingsley arrived unannounced at Meadowfield Lodge.  Seeing her father's
flushed face and weakened state and hoping to save him the from the
ordeal of having to speak to their visitor, which would surely tax his
strength, she offered to see James instead, but her father would have
none of it and insisted on speaking to their visitor himself.

James was admitted to their presence in an extremely nervous state, as
if he would have preferred not to be there, but knew he must if he
hoped to win Kitty over.  Rachel had hardened her heart against him and
greeted him with a bitter contempt which she soon swallowed.  She Could
not deny that she was glad that he had taken the initiative to come and
see Kitty, saving her father the discomfort and humiliation of having
to go to Mortlake Park.

"I have to say that I'm surprised to see you here, sir," Rachel said
harshly--although, when he lifted his eyes and looked at her, she was
sorry to have sounded so cold, for she was sure she had never seen more
pain on anyone's face.  The poor man did, indeed, look most wretched.

"Pardon me for forcing myself on you in this manner," he said, looking
from Rachel to George Fairley, who was standing by the fireplace with
his hand on the mantelpiece in a surprisingly relaxed pose.  "I-r-I
should have sent a note for you to expect meut--I feared you might not
wish to see me."

"I am hardly in a position to refuse to see you--considering the
unfortunate condition of my daughter," said George bluntly.  '

James's cheeks flushed scarlet at being reminded of Kitty's condition
and he had the good grace to look contrite.  "You are justified in your
condemnation of me, sir--but no amount of castigation of my character
on your part could possibly be greater than my own."

"Then I am glad to hear it, for by your wanton recklessness you have
brought my family to a state of degredation we did not deserve.
However, if you are here to do the right thing by Kitty---acknowledging
the child as your own, of course--then perhaps something good can be
salvaged from this unfortunate affair."

"Yes--of course.  I do acknowledge the child as mine and I offer you my
humblest, most abject apologies for any suffering I have caused."

Unsmiling, George nodded.  "Thank you.  I accept your apologies."

"H-how is Kitty?  Will she want to see me?  Will--will she forgive me
for leaving her, do you think?"  James asked hesitantly.

"Forgive!"  gasped Rachel.  "Kitty has suffered greatly on account of
your neglect.  Your treatment of her when she most needed you was
diabolical--but," she said, a little smile beginning to curve her lips,
believing that the warmth with which he spoke of Kitty was quite
genuine and unable to watch his suffering a moment longer without
attempting to ease his pain, 'perhaps when she sees you are indeed
sincere in your entreaties--then she may see fit to forgive you.  "

"I love Kitty dearly and will do my best to make her happy."

"I think it is my daughter you should be saying this to.  She is
walking in the garden.  Why don't you go and tell her yourself?.  Show
him the way, will you, Rachel?"

"Of course," Rachel said, and as she was leaving the room she turned
back to her father and smiled.  Their eyes met in a glance of mutual
relief that everything was to be resolved between them at last---and,
it would seem, with little fuss.

The day following James's visit to Meadowfield Lodge, desperately
needing to escape the restricting confines of the house and Kitty's
state of euphoria since James's visit when he had proposed marriage to
her, Rachel rode into Ellerton to make some small purchases from the
milliners with one of the young grooms, Thomas, in attendance.

On her return journey, she left the main thoroughfare and followed the
course of the fiver that flowed past the bottom of the gardens to
Meadowfield Lodge.  At this point the water was dark and deep, with
dangerous, fast-flowing rapids tumbling and splashing over raised lumps
of rock on the river bed.  Small tributaries left the main flow to feed
the lake behind a thick belt of trees, in the grounds of Mortlake Park.
Thoughts of Mortlake Park brought to mind its owner.

She was unable to dwell on their last meeting without her face burning
with the memory of how severely Lord Kingsley had verbally abused
Kitty, making Rachel angry and bitterly hurt, before he had completely
thrown her off her guard and kissed her ardently, declaring his love.
How confused she had been--and how passionately she had responded to
his embrace with an ardour that brought a flush to her cheeks at the
memory.

A glow warmed her from head to toe as she allowed her mind to dwell on
that moment in his arms, feeling a quivering, tremulous feeling in the
pit of her stomach and knowing there could only be one explanation for
it.  She wondered when she had first started to love him--for love him
she did, and deeply.

She sighed, not wishing to hurry back to the house, but, aware of
Thomas's growing impatience at her wish to idle along, she told him to
ride on ahead, that she would be perfectly all right, for it was a path
she often took and was more than familiar with.

Thomas seemed reluctant to leave her, but Rachel insisted.  Only when
she was completely alone and unobserved by anyone did she slow her
horse down to a gentle walk beside the fast-flowing water, and let her
mind dwell on Lord Kingsley and how much he had come to mean to her.

So lost was she in her reverie that she did not hear a horse and rider
approach from behind until a voice rang out.  "Miss Fair Icy
Please--wait."

She turned and, seeing a man mounted on a large black horse galloping
along the fiver bank towards her, drew rein and waited for him to come
closer.  She was scarcely able to believe her eyes when she recognised
him as the man who presently occupied her thoughts.

Her heart gave a joyful leap and she watched in astonishment as he came
closer, blood pounding in her temples, although she was full of
consternation.  There was no one in the world she wanted to see less
when she remembered the intimacy of their last meeting--and yet no one
she wanted to see more.

He looked so striking and relaxed astride his big horse, champing at
its bit as he drew rein, with frothy white foam dripping from its
mouth, its jet coat slippery with sweat.  Rachel suspected he had been
riding hard and would have let his horse continue to gallop free had he
not seen her.  His riding outfit was black with a white cravat and
black riding boots.  A

tall hat sat firmly on his unruly black curls.

William took in Rachel's appearance at a glance.  It was the first time
he had seen her on horseback and he thought she looked the perfect
picture of sophisticated elegance.  Her cheeks were flushed an
attractive pink and her deep blue eyes sparkled from the exertions of
her ride.

"Why--Lord Kingsley, you--you have taken me quite ly surprise," she
said hesitantly, overcome by a sudden attack of shyness when she
remembered the circumstances of their last meeting, and knowing from
the way his eyes narrowed and lingered softly on her face that it was
uppermost in his mind also.  "I--I've just ridden to Ellerton to make a
few purchases and thought, as it is such a lovely day, that I

would ride back by the river.  "

"Alone?"

"No.  Thomas, one of the grooms, was with me until I sent him on
ahead."

"I see.  Then it is lucky for me that I chose this time to ride to
Meadowfield Lodge to see your father.  We can ride along together.  Do
you often ride?"

"Yes, quite often.  Tell me, Lord Kingsley, did Sir Edgar not return
with you to Mortlake Park?"

"No.  He may visit at a later date but for the present..."  he smiled
meaningfully 'his time is taken up with forming a romantic attachment
with your charming cousin, Caroline.  He seems to be quite smitten by
her---and your aunt seems well pleased at the way things are heading.
Edgar is indeed fortunate in his choice.  "

"Yes, he is.  In fact, it is a good match for them both, and Aunt Mary
might well rejoice should anything come of it--as I'm sure it will."

They rode in silence for a while, the only sound coming from the river
as the water splashed and tumbled over the rocks.  William cast a
glance of appraisal at Rachel as they rode side by side along the river
bank.

With the reins looped between her gloved and capable fingers she rode
side saddle, sitting easily, with her head erect and back straight, her
shoulders square and slender---mistress of herself and her horse, a bay
mare with a white blaze.  Her habit was of dark blue velvet with a
matching hat perched attractively atop her black hair, with a small
plume dancing jauntily when she moved her head.

The simplicity and rich colour of her habit only served to heighten her
beauty and the dark blue depths of her eyes.  William felt an urgent
stirring of desire deep inside, for he thought he had never seen her
look more lovely.  She had an unbelievably small waist and his eyes
lingered on the soft mounds of her breasts straining beneath her
jacket, and the way her round hips moved in a provocative motion with
the movements of her horse.

"I am glad to have the chance of speaking to you alone.  I have been
meaning to ride over to Meadowfield Lodge to speak to you before now,"
he said, when she became aware of his scrutiny and turned and looked at
him directly.

"Oh!"

"Yes.  I've been wanting to apologise to you for my behaviour on our
last meeting.  I said many things that day of which I am ashamed.  It
was not my intention to give offence."

Rachel stared at him with some surprise.  "Why--you surprise me, Lord
Kingsley.  You!  Ashamed!  You must forgive me if I find that difficult
to believe.  However--my memory of that day is not so hazy that I have
forgotten the offensive and insulting things you said about my sister.
You said nothing you did not mean.  Let me see--what was it you said,
now" --your opinions once uttered cannot be retracted.  " Correct me if
my memory serves me wrong--but I believe that was what you said.  So
you see, Lord Kingsley, it is a little late to withdraw anything you
said that day."

She spoke lightly, but it was clear to William that she was still
offended by what he had said that day at Kingsley House regarding her
sister.  Infuriated that she should comment on the unpleasant part of
their conversation instead of what should be most important to them
both, he drew his eyebrows together in an unbroken line and hardened
his voice.

"Withdraw!  I am offering you an apology, not a withdrawal of anything
I said.  It's just that, with hindsight, I wish I'd kept most of what I
did say to myself."

"With regards to Kitty or myself?"  Rachel asked pointedly.

"Your sister, of course.  What I said to you was heartfelt and
sincere--and," he said quietly, looking across at her, a merciless
humour glinting behind his eyes, 'my memory is not so hazy that I do
not remember your reply---or your response for that matter--for the
manner in which you so ardently accommodated my embrace quite took my
breath away and left me expectant for more.  "

Her composure totally destroyed, Rachel's eyes met his, and what she
saw---and the deep quality of his voice stroking her like a
caress----made a slow, embarrassing flush rise to the roots of her
hair, rendering her speechless.  Her confusion brought a wicked smile
of satisfaction to William's lips.  They rode on in silence for a few
moments before Rachel was able to speak, thinking it best for her
sanity to steer the conversation away from themselves.

"Your--your brother called at Meadowfield Lodge yesterday.  Did he tell
you?"

"Yes.  Hence my reason for riding over to see your father today."

"I cannot tell you how happy we all were to see him--especially Kitty.
It seems everything is resolved between them at last.  You can imagine
our relief, for it is more than any of us dared hope for.  We are
indebted to you--I believe it is you we have to thank for the happy
outcome."

"No, not at all.  I cannot take any credit.  It was all James's doing.
When I returned to Mortlake Park it was to find him full of remorse and
on the point of returning to London to find your sister and throw
himself on her mercy.  So you see," he said quietly, a tiny smile
appearing at the corner of his mouth as his eyes caught and held hers,
'do not feel you have to think better of me.  "

Quickly Rachel tore her eyes from his, feeling distinctly uncomfortable
all of a sudden, wishing they were not so far away from Meadowfield
Lodge.

"Kitty and James did not get off to a very good start, she said
quickly, in an effort to hide her confusion.  " But, all things
considered, there is no reason why their marriage shouldn't work.  I'm
sure they will be very happy together.  "

"And your sister?  How does she feel about not returning to the
theatre?  For I hope she realises that it will be quite out of the
question once she is married to my brother."

"And has become your sister-in-law," retorted Rachel drily, her eyes
flashing across at him angrily, for his meaning was as plain aS the
nose on his face.  You need have no worries on that, Lord Kingsley.
Kitty will neither embarrass nor disgrace you.

"But not, I might add, out of any consideration she-might feel towards
yourself or because she bears the distinguished and honourable name of
Kingsley--but because she will have little choice once the child is
born.  I am sure her love for James will overcome any qualms she might
have at having to relinquish her hopes of a career in the theatre."

All at once William drew rein and Rachel turned and looked at him,
wondering why he had stopped.  With a mixture of anger and
exasperation, he sprang abruptly from his horse and strode towards her.
Her expression was one of puzzlement.  Reaching up, he caught her about
her waist and hoisted her roughly from her horse on to the ground
beside him.

Ignoring her small cry of protest, and without relinquishing his hold
on her arm, he pulled her towards the shelter of the trees.  Pressing
her back against the broad trunk of one of them, and after removing his
tall hat and flinging it to the ground, he placed his hands on either
side of her to prevent any escape.

Rachel stared up at him in stunned bewilderment.  His face was dark and
his eyes held a frightening glitter.  Panic swept over her and she
tried to stop herself from shaking, for she was determined not to let
him see she was afraid, that his close proximity disturbed her.  When
she looked up at him towering over her, his whole body taut as he
imprisoned her against the tree, her heart began thumping in her
breast.

"Enough," he said angrily.  "I am heartily tired of hearing about your
sister's misfortunes.  Your consideration towards her is commendable,
but it goes way beyond the call of duty.  She sowed the seeds of her
own destruction when she decided to take up her career.  You have
staunchly supported her in her adversity--which I doubt she appreciates
or deserves."

"Why--how--how dare you," Rachel gasped, stunned by his unpremeditated
outburst of feeling.  She stiffened and tried to move away, but his
hands gripped her shoulders so firmly she was unable to move.

"You are not her keeper, Rachel," he said, speaking her name for the
first time.  "You have been forced by circumstances to share in her
predicament--to comfort and stand by her, to pander to her selfishness
and her needs, to sympathise when she weeps.

"But she no longer needs you.  Now she has James.  She is about to
embark on a new life--and she will not be alone.  I have to say that I
am beginning to warm to the idea of her marrying James, otherwise you
would spend the rest of your life dancing attendance on her."

"No--no, I would not," Rachel protested with heated indignation.

"Yes, you would.  Why do you cling to her side?  My own meetings with
her have been less alluring, ] assure you."

"She did not mean to be rude towards you--I know that-and she will
apologise when next you meet."

"I can truly say I care not one way or the other.  My concern is for
you.  Why have you let this come between us, when I thought we had
sorted everything out at last?  Why do you continue to fight me?  I
know you use Kitty as a cloak to hide your true feelings.  Are you
still afraid of them, afraid of letting me come too close?"

Rachel raised her head and her eyes met his.  proudly.  "No--of course
not.  I am not afraid of you."

"I would not have it so-however, I know you are not indifferent to me.
I felt it in your response to my kiss--remember?--on our last meeting.
The truth of it is that you have held yourself in check for so long,
you are afraid to give way to your feelings--afraid to admit they are
equal to what my own have been for some considerable time.  You told me
you loved me so do not deny their existence, for I will not believe
you."

"How can you be so sure of what is in my heart?"  Rachel asked, her
voice firm, but she was quivering inside, feeling so very vulnerable at
being held in such a restricting manner with his face so close to her
own.  She was desperately afraid she could not maintain control of
herself much longer and was furious that she should feel this way.

"Because your heart shines from your eyes," he said softly, looking
adoringly down at the contours of her face, at the shine of her eyes,
and marvelling in the sweet fragrance emanating from her skin.

"You, my dear, darling, irresistible Rachel, have the distinction of
being the only woman I have ever declared my love for--and whether you
like it or not, my feelings have not changed.  You have the power to
goad me to the very limits of my endurance--do you know that, Rachel?
Your beauty, your intellect and wit, and your unpredictability, are
just some of the reasons which I find so adorable, so attractive about
you."

He sighed, his eyes darkening, drawing her closer into his arms, his
voice becoming soft with passion.  "Here we are alone, Rachel--just you
and 1---which is a wondrous thing these days.  There is no Kitty, no
James no other member of either of our families to encroach on this
moment.

"Despite your past hostility, your tendency to fight me whenever we
meet, you have already declared your love for me, which gives me hope.
Why do you tremble so?  Are you afraid?  And if so, of me or
yourself?."

The resistance to give in to the temptation to throw herself into his
arms was so powerful--but something held her back.  What was it?  she
asked herself.

Pride?  Had he been right when he had said she was afraid?  Was she
afraid of him--or of herself and how her body and senses would betray
her if he were to repeat the kiss he had given her at Kingsley House?
But how could she call it betrayal when deep within she craved for his
kiss that, because she loved him so deeply, should be the most natural
thing in the world.

Unbeknown to her, her face softened its fences, and, as if waiting for
just such a sign, William's arms went around her waist, her shoulders,
drawing her towards him, and she felt herself pressed closer to him
than she had been to any other human being in her entire life--so close
that their bodies became fused together.

With her head back, limp and quite helpless in his arms, she became
swamped by a warm tide of emotions and bewilderment as his eyes
devoured the wonderful exciting beauty of her eyes, her lips, the very
curve of her cheek, and the soft hollow of her throat where a pulse
throbbed gently beneath the surface of her flesh.  Her eyes were wide
open like those of a kitten, with a fire burning in the luminosity of
their depths,

His breath hot on her face, William's lips hovered above hers, almost
touching, but not quite, and she wanted them to.  She wanted him to
kiss her like he had on that other occasion.  But when his lips finally
sought hers and they stood pressed together in warm, dark rapture, his
kiss was nothing like the one before

With her mouth against his, Rachel uttered a long shuddering sigh of
love and longing, yielding her lips to his and opening them the more to
appreciate his kiss, which was long and deep, soft and caressing,
evoking feelings and disturbing sensations she had never known
existed.

She raised her hands in a feeble attempt to push him away, but instead
of breaking his embrace they stole upwards around his neck, her fingers
becoming fixed and lost in the mass of black curls crowning his head,
pulling his face ever closer to her own, surprising herself at the
wantonness that gripped her with a passion such as she had never known,
wiping everything but this one blessed moment from her mind.

She moaned to the accompaniment of the water tumbling along its rocky
bed, and when his mouth left her lips to travel down the length of her
slender throat, to kiss the place where the pulse was beating madly,
tantalising him, she wanted to speak, only to find his mouth again
covering hers.

Eventually their lips drew apart and they stood looking at each other
while their breathing slowed, their eyes fastened together, devouring
and intense, their hearts beating in unison, the torrent of feelings
each had awoken in the other having taken them both by surprise. Rachel
stared at William with mute longing, with a half-suppressed gesture of
appeal, her lower lip quivering, and at last those wonderful eyes fixed
on his were naked and quite defenceless.

Suddenly William's eyes looked past Rachel and became alert, his hands
dropping to his sides.  She looked at him in puzzlement, turning slowly
and following his gaze, gasping when she saw Stephen sitting astride
his horse behind them, watching them, his expression one of absolute
horror and amazement at finding his sister locked in so passionate an
embrace with Lord Kingsley.


Chapter Thirteen

In a state of shock, and still under the influence of the spell cast on
her by the passion awoken in her by Lord Kingsley's embrace, Rachel
stared at her brother as one mesmerised, her face still flushed, her
eyes still glowing, and her lips parted and moist.

"Stephen!"  she whispered, her head reeling, still unable to comprehend
that he was there, having had no idea he had arrived home.  She was
frozen with horror, embarrassment and shame---that her brother should
find her in such a delicate situation with Lord Kingsley of all
people.

What could she tell him by way of an explanation that might excuse her
conduct?  But she could think 'of nothing.  He would not understand
anything she had to say when his Own eyes had witnessed the truth of
the incident.  "This---this is not as it appears."

William regained his composure almost immediately, bending to retrieve
his hat and dusting it down before casually placing it back on his
head.  "Yes, it is," he said, contradicting what she said firmly, not
in the least put out at being discovered in a com

promising situation with her by her brother.

"I observed for myself the way of things," Stephen replied,
dismounting, not quite sure what stance he should take.

It was right he should appear to be outraged on finding his sister
being taken advantage of in such a scandalous manner--and perhaps if
Rachel had not found such obvious pleasure in Lord Kingsley's embrace
then he might be.  But there had been no protestations on her part, so
he could only assume there might be some kind of understanding between
them that he knew nothing about.

The situation was one of extreme' delicacy.  Had it been anyone other
than Lord Kingsley he had found embracing his sister, he would have
reacted with anger, but as it was he suppressed any displeasure he
felt.  Apart from Lord Kingsley's refusal to give his consent for him
to marry Amanda, he had no reason to think ill of him, and his
knowledge of him was that he was a gentleman, for he was held in the
highest regard and valued in the circles in which he moved.

Was it possible he had been deceived?  He knew not what to think, but,
urged by an instinctive bid to protect Rachel, knowing it was important
that her reputation should remain intact, then Lord Kingsley or not, he
had to ask him of his intentions.

He cast a severe, critical eye at his sister.  "Your conduct and the
impropriety of such wanton behaviour disturbs me, Rachel.  And you,
sir," he said, shifting his gaze to Lord Kingsley, who was not in the
least contrite or put out in any way--in fact, he

An lllustous Lord seemed amused and quite at ease with the whole
affair.

"I have to say I am surprised that you, of all people, should take
advantage of my sister's innocence in this manner.  It is fortunate
that no one other than myself came by this way, otherwise she would be
publicly disgraced.  By all accounts, the situation between Kitty and
your brother is bad enough but for Rachel to find herself in the same
situation with another member of the Kingsley family would be too much.
I have to ask you to explain yourself, sir."

Surprise continued to leave Rachel speechless and she stared from one
to the other in anguished apprehension.

Leaving her side, William moved towards Stephen.  "I fully comprehend
you---and you are right to ask me to explain myself.  Were the
situation reversed and had I come upon you and Amanda in such a
delicate situation then I would have behaved with less dignity," he
said in a voice which was perfectly calm, not in the least perturbed by
Stephen's apparent displeasure and the embarrassing awkwardness of the
situation.  "I apologise.  I know how it must look to you---but I have
the utmost regard for your sister's reputation and would not tarnish it
in any way."

"Then what are your intentions?"  "I wish to marry her."

Neither of them heard Rachel gasp from where she stood a few paces
away, or saw the incredulity of her expression.  Stephen stared at Lord
Kingsley with absolute astonishment, unable to comprehend at first what
he heard, and then his face broke into a smile of absolute relief.

"Indeed!  Well--who would have thought it?  I--I have to say that
changes matters somewhat."

"Of course, I shall have to seek your father's consent."

"There will be no objection there.  My father holds you in the highest
regard--and will deem it a great honour to give his consent to a match
between you and Rachel."

From where she stood, Rachel could not believe her ears.  She had been
swamped by shame at Stephen finding her in such a situation as this
and, on observing Lord Kingsley's reaction to it, which was one of
dispassionate unconcern, vexation also.  How could he be so nonchalant
after what had just happened between them?

Tears smarted her eyes and she wanted to cry, but she swallowed them
down, anger being her only outlet for her overstretched nerves as she
listened to them discussing her as if she were of no consequence.

"Why--how dare you," she cried, stepping towards them.

William turned and looked at her flaming cheeks, raising a sleek black
eyebrow questioningly.  "Why--is something wrong?"

He was so cool, so self-assured.  His light airy tone whipped up
Rachel's anger further.

"I have listened to you discussing my future as if I did not exist. How
dare you?"  she fumed, the savagery in her tone startling both men.
"You are discussing me as--as though I were some kind or property to be
bartered at Will.  Your arrogance and impudence never ceases to astound
me, Lord Kingsley.  One kiss and you take it for granted that

I will marry you.  You might at least show me some courtesy by asking
me first.  "

Beginning to see the funny side, Stephen smiled.  "Come now, Rachel.
Why this show of outraged modesty?  It appeared to me you were rather
enjoying Lord Kingsley's embrace."

"Oh---no.  Never."  She fixed her blazing eyes on William.  "You have
shamed me, sir, and in front of my brother.  Oh--I--I will never
forgive you for this.  Never."

Not troubling to hide his amusement, William laughed outright, which
infuriated her further.  Her cheeks flaming red and too angry to say
anything further, Rachel crossed to her horse.  William strode after
her and, before she knew what he was about, had placed his hands on her
waist and lifted her up into the saddle with remarkable ease.

Too angry to bring herself to look down at his handsome face, at his
black eyes dancing with merciless merriment, she rode off without
another word, without even a backward glance.  This was a blessing, for
if she had, her anger would have intensified at seeing the smile of
amusement that passed between her brother and the man who wanted to
marry her.

"Oh, dear," said Stephen, watching her retreating figure.  "My sister's
fury is unequalled when roused--as I know to my cost, having been on
the receiving end of her tongue on many occasion.  But I have to say,
it is the first time I have seen her so angry, so discomposed, for some
time.  Clearly you have touched a raw nerve, Lord Kingsley."

"Not for the first time.  From the very start of our acquaintance she
made it known there is nothing meek or pliable about her.  Her tongue
is oft laced with acid."  He chuckled softly.

"I fear she means what she says.,

"I don't doubt that--but not only will she forgive me, she will also
remember the episode with a great deal of pleasure."

Stephen fixed him with a serious gaze.  "Forgive my asking, sir---but
it is only right that I should, Rachel being my sister---but ... you
are serious about marrying her?"

"Yes.  Now I've compromised her so outrageously," he said, walking
towards his horse, 'then she'll have no choice but to marry me.  "

"And is Rachel aware of the sincerity of your intentions?"

"Not yet," said Will}am, moving towards his horse.  "But she will be.
Come---seeing as I've been deprived of the company of your delightful
sister, ride with me to Meadowfield Lodge.  There is a matter I have to
discuss with your father."

Stephen stared at him aghast.  "About Rachel?  Forgive me---but I had
not thought you would speak to him quite so soon."

William laughed.  "No.  There is another wedding to be arranged
first-between my brother and your sister, Kitty."  He cast hiTM a
cursory glance.  "Ah--I see you already know of this matter."

"Yes.  My father enlightened me on my return.  It would seem much has
been happening whilst I have been in the north,"

Together the two men followed Rachel in the direction of Meadowfield
Lodge, but already she had disappeared from sight.

Over the days following the episode between herself and Lord Kingsley,
Rachel maintained an enforced silence on any mention of him.  No matter
how ardently Stephen was tempted to tease her on the matter, she would
not be drawn, for the impertinent manner in which he had arrogantly
assumed she would marry him, without bothering to ask her first,
continued to anger her.

From the beginning of their acquaintance, there had been So much that
had kept them apart.  Now, when everything had been reconciled between
them, were fresh obstacles to be erected---and were these obstacles to
come from Lord Kingsley himself?  It seemed that, in his egotistical
male pride, he was fully convinced he was the right person to make the
decisions about her future, without even pausing to consider her
opinion.

And yet the memory of his embrace brought a softening to her Senses
Whenever she thought of his kiss, which had been so ardently and
expertly given, then her face crimsoned with a mixture of shame and
embarrassment at the wanton abandon with which she had yielded,
bringing a warm tide of pleasure flooding within her heart.

He had awakened her to all the pleasurable sensations she had only ever
dreamed of, primitive, rapturous sensations she had always associated
with being in love.  She felt no shame in this, for she could not
escape the fact that she adored him.

The overwhelming temptation to go to Mortlake

Park and throw herself into his arms and allow him to do as he wished
with her, to carry her off, almost proved too powerful to resist--was
this not what she wanted more than anything else--for him to love her
to want her?  But she restrained any weakness she might have; she would
not yield to the temptation to abandon herself to him without thought.
She too had her pride, and if anything was to grow between them, then
he must have respect for her feelings and her right to make her own
decisions.

Lord Kingsley made all the necessary arrangements for the marriage
between James and Kitty, which was a quiet affair at Ellerton Church.
Apart from the bride and groom, the only other people present were Lord
Kingsley, Rachel, Stephen and their father.  Lady Brayfield and her
daughters would have been-present, but they had not yet returned from
London.

All parties, knowing of the delicacy of the circumstances that called
for haste, were eager for the wedding to be over and done with and
Kitty once more accepted---as much as she ever could be back into the
realms of social respectability.

After a few months travelling in the north of the country with her new
husband--who would be acting as agent for his family, seeking advice
and gleaning as much information as he could into which industries the
Kingsley fortunes could be the most profitably invested--she would
spend some weeks before her confinement staying with relatives of her
father's in Leeds.  Eventually, she would return to Oxfordshire with
her husband and child--and, hopefully, the whole unpleasant episode of
her time spent as an actress would be forgotten.

It was the first time Rachel had seen Kingsley, at the brief ceremony
in Ellerton since the unfortunate episode when Stephen come upon them
that day.  Although she tried show it, she was in a state of nervous
wondering how he would receive her after shel left him so angrily on
their last encounter.

Sadly, now her anger had left her and had softened towards him once
more, her regret the whole episode clouded any enjoyment have felt on
her sister's wedding day.

Lord Kingsley was in a serious mood.

the ceremony, she ventured to glance at darkly handsome figure, letting
her eyes the way his black hair curled over the collar black frock
coat.  His expression was as he became absorbed in what was taking
Kitty and James exchanging their marriage

It was impossible to read what was going on mind.  Was he disappointed
that James someone so far beneath him socially?  she self.  Although,
in all fairness to had been times when his manner and towards herself
had almost convinced her of this mattered to him.

He did not approach her until afterwards, returned to Meadowfield Lodge
wedding breakfast before James and Kitty north.  Rachel took the
courage to look him and he looked back, his eyes Gradually he moved
towards her, his voice formal, and the subject on both their minds was
not alluded to.

"It is a satisfactory outcome, don't you agree?"  he said, referring to
the happy couple about to leave for the north.

"Happy--as well as satisfactory, I would say," Rachel responded
softly.

"Your sister seems much changed," he commented, 'and her manner towards
myself is a good deal improved, I am relieved to say.  "

"It is hardly surprising now she has married your brother, Lord
Kingsley.  Any ill-disposed feelings she might have had for you have
been eased considerably by recent events.  I only hope she has
remembered her manners and apologised to you for her unpleasant
behaviour of late."

"Yes, she has."

"And you forgave her?"

He glanced across the room at Kitty, who was glowingly hanging onto his
brother's arm with easy assurance, with cool deliberation.  "As to
that, I cannot say.  Maybe in time I will be able to overlook her
deficiencies and become reconciled to her as a sister-in-law--although
I doubt I shall ever feel true affection for her.  However, I bear her
no ill will and would not wish for any unpleasantness to come between
my brother and me."

"How charitable of you," Rachel replied with a hint of sarcasm to her
tone.  "I am sure Kitty will be more than grateful for any
consideration you might show her in the future.  She will not disgrace
you, if that is what you think."

William looked at her sharply, but before he could reply, James, having
crossed over to them, gained all his attention.

When Kitty and James had left for the north, Rachel," in silent
mortification regretting having so upbraided Lord Kingsley, watched him
leave Meadowfield Lodge, believing all was indeed lost.

It would seem that her anger and the way in which she had left him on
the day when Stephen had come upon them had been the end of their
acquaintance.  After his declaration of love and her angry refusal to
listen to his proposal of marriage, then he was hardly likely to suffer
the indignity of a second rebuff.

But that did not stop her from ardently hoping he would ask her again.
She desperately wanted to tell him all that was in her heart, but the
opportunity for doing so did not arise.  When he left Meadowfield
Lodge, his cool indifference told her there could never be anything
between them.  It was plain he no longer cared for her and she was
fully convinced he would not come again.

William's reasons for not calling on Rachel, and his cool austerity on
the day of the wedding, were of an entirely different nature and had
nothing whatsoever to do with her.  His stepmother's mental defects
prevented him from leaving Mortlake Park.  Doting on James as she did,
his presence since returning from London had comforted her, but his
marriage had not gone down at all well, and his departure for the north
had unhinged her mind completely.

She had become unreasonable and violent, and the door to her room had
to be permanently locked, for there was no telling where she might
wander once outside the house-or what she might do to herself or others
who tried to apprehend her.  Each day she showed increasing signs of
becoming more and more unbalanced and one never knew in what form her
madness would emerge.  With great reluctance, William was forced to
summon the physician, who finally declared her insane.

It was an enormous relief to William that Mr.  Hopkins arrived from
Antigua at this time, with the long-awe!  ted and welcome information
about the medical history of his stepmother's family.

Unfortunately, the information he had to impart was overheard by Lady
Kingsley herself--who, in one of her more lucid moments, had cunningly
outwitted her maid and escaped the confines of her room.  Finding her
way downstairs, she quietly hovered in the half-open doorway and
listened with silent interest to what was being said between her
stepson and his visitor.  Only when they had finished speaking did she
turn and slip like a shadow out of the house.

It was not until Mr.  Hopkins was leaving that one of the servants came
to inform Lord Kingsley that his stepmother was nowhere to be found.

However hard Rachel tried to conceal it, her disappointment over Lord
Kingsley's coolness towards her, and the fact that he hadn't called on
her at Meadowfield Lodge, was evident to Stephen.

In an attempt to cheer her, he was relieved to see how she brightened
considerably when he suggested they ride over to Ellerton Hall to visit
their aunt Mary, who had returned from London, and to congratulate
Caroline on her recent betrothal to Sir Edgar

Mainwaring.  Unbeknown to either of them, they set off for Ellerton
Hall on the same day that Mr.  Hopkins went to Mortlake Park to see
Lord Kingsley.

Having left their aunt in a state of shock after relating the details
of Kitty's marriage to James Kingsley, and incredulous on discovering
he was the father of Kitty's unborn child, they were riding back to
Meadowfield Lodge in happy spirits.

The day was extremely cold but, thankfully, the heavy rain that had
fallen constantly over the previous week had stopped at last and the
clouds had broken to reveal huge patches of blue sky.  Following the
path that followed the course of the river, in a moment of high spirits
Stephen turned to his sister.

"Come, Rachel--I'll race you back to the house.  Let's see who Can be
first into the stable yard."

Rachel laughed, for they never failed to race back to Meadowfield Lodge
after riding over to Ellerton Hall.  It was a rare occurrence for
Rachel's docile mare to beat Stephen's large, high-spirited stallion,
but she always rose gamely to the challenge.

"All right, Stephen--but as usual you have an unfair advantage on your
mount.  He's a good deal faster than my own and you know it.  At least
have the generosity of heart to give me a start."

He grinned back at her.  "Very well--just a few lengths, if you think
you need it," he conceded graciously.

Happily, Rachel rode on ahead but Stephen soon caught her up and, with
a victorious whoop, overtook her, leaving her trailing behind.  Riding
hard in an attempt to regain some ground, out of the corner of her eyes
Rachel thought she saw a flash of something white on the opposite side
of the fiver.  At first she thought her mind was playing strange tricks
but, glancing across, she saw someone emerge from the trees and stop on
the bank of the river.

Slowing her home to a walk, she fixed her eyes on the figure of a woman
who, despite the extreme cold of the November day, was scantily clad in
what appeared to be a nightdress, the hem liting as she moved to reveal
her bare feet.

Rachel stared in disbelief, sure she was about to cross the
river--which was shallow at that point--until she saw Rachel and
hesitated, standing still for just a moment, hovering on the brink of
indecision.  It gave Rachel time to look at her and recognise the pale
features of Lady Kingsley, her white hair hanging loose down either
side of her face.

Quickly she turned and ran back into the shelter of the trees, leaving
Rachel staring after her.  At a loss as to what she should do, in
desperation she looked ahead to see Stephen just disappearing round a
bend in the path, galloping hard in order to be the first into the
stable yard.

"Stephen," she called above the noise of the river.  "Stephen, wait."

Unfortunately, he was too far ahead to hear her.  She was undecided
about what she should do, but in the end her concern for the well-being
of Lady Kingsley overcame her desire to follow Stephen, for she could
not let the poor woman go wandering about the woods in a state of
semi-undress.

Gingerly, she urged her home down the river bank and looked with unease
at the churning water, for after the heavy rain the river was running
high,

forcing horse and rider to pick their way across the slippery stones
with care.  Once on the other side, she rode into the trees in search
of Lady Kingsley, curious as to the reason for her strange behaviour,
and what she could be doing running about the countryside in such cold
weather with so few clothes on to protect her.

There was no sign of her in the wood but, undaunted, Rachel rode on
through the gloom, following a track between the trees.  They began to
thin out and presently she emerged into the sunlight.  At last she
caught sight of Lady Kingsley, but her heart almost ceased to beat when
she saw she was heading for the calm, still waters of the lake.

Rachel called out and Lady Kingsley turned and peered at her, making
Rachel's blood run cold when she beheld the expression on her face.

Lady Kingsley's eyes were wild, her face one of anguish, and her mouth
gaping wide open in a silent scream.  Her look was one of madness--as
if she had completely lost her senses--and then Rachel knew that she
was mad, that this was the terrible secret which Lord Kingsley had
tried to conceal from her and the world.  The fact that his stepmother
suffered from a severe mental disorder explained so many things.

Lady Kingsley turned from her and Stepped into the water, and did not
appear to be aware of the intense cold as she began wading out towards
the centre.  Again Rachel called out to her, but it was no use. 
Quickly she dismounted and ran to the edge of the reed-infested lake,
calling and looking around in frantic desperation, startling the birds
on the surface of the water and causing them to take noisy flight.

What could she do?  she asked herself.  She could not let her go
further into the water--she would surely drown.  But, she thought
suddenly, horror striking at her very soul, was that what she wanted?
Was she so unhappy that she wanted to take her own life?

This thought filled her with despair, for in all conscience she could
not let her do that she must get help from somewhere.  But how could
she?  There was no time.  The great house of Mortlake, reflected in the
gleaming waters of the lake, was too far away.  By the time she
summoned help from there, it would be too late.

Without thought for her own mortal danger,--unlike Stephen, she had
never learned to swim she began wading out into the lake, shuddering
when the cold water invaded her shoes.  Her feet stirred up the muddy
silt on the bottom, which clouded the water about her.  With her eyes
fixed on Lady Kingsley, she shouted for her to come back, but Lady
Kingsley carried on, paying no heed to her entree ties

Despite being hampered by her heavy skirts Rachel managed to get close
to her and tried to measure the distance between them and the degree of
strength she would require to pull her towards her.  Reaching out, she
managed to grasp the white material of her gown but, with a groan of
despair, she felt it slip from her grasp when the ground beneath her
feet suddenly disappeared where the lake shelved.

Feeling herself floundering, sheer terror gripped her, and a fear that
she was going to die.  She was frightened, more frightened than she had
ever been in her life.

She did not see Stephen emerge from the trees--having come back to look
for her when he realised she wasn't following, thinking her horse might
have lost a shoe--and nor did she see the people running down the hill
from Mortlake, or hear one of them calling her name in frantic
desperation.

Flinging off his jacket as he ran and pulling off his boots before
diving into the water, with powerful strokes he began to swim out to
her across the lake.

Death stared Rachel in the face as she went under the water, her legs,
as they thrashed about, becoming entangled and held fast by long
trailing weeds, resembling the long black strands of her hair that had
become unpinned.  it was like a nightmare from which there was no
awakening because of the water she could not cry out.

She managed to surface briefly and gasp for air--at the same time
seeing Lady Kingsley disappear, her hair floating on the surface of the
water like a pale, beautiful halo of light.

Gradually Rachel became unaware of the intensity of the cold seeping
into her, of the numbness taking over her entire body.  She closed her
eyes, aware of water in her mouth, her eyes, her ears, pulling at her,
taking her further and further down to the murky depths of the lake.

It would be so easy now to give way to weightlessness, so easy to
surrender, to give herself up to the darkness waiting to claim her
completely.  A pleasant stupor stole over her and time lost all
meaning, but from somewhere in the centre of her mind the instinct for
self-preservation made her fight the darkness in one last scramble for
life.  She flailed her arms, struggling to the surface and gulping for
air as her head surfaced again, before darkness claimed her one more
time.

Just when she thought all was lost, when she thought all the breath had
been driven from her and her lungs would burst, she was sure she heard
someone calling her name from up above, commanding her to live, and she
felt herself being grasped and pulled upwards, strong arms encircling
her waist.  Again her head appeared above the water and this time
someone was holding her, making it impossible for her to sink back into
the slimy dark abyss of the lake.

Briefly her eyes flickered open and her heart soared when they became
focused on William's familiar, beloved features.  She was in no
condition to ask what miracle had brought him to her when she needed
him most, to snatch her from the very jaws of death.  It was enough for
her that he had come.

Barely conscious, Rachel heard more voices as a boat was brought
alongside and more arms reached out and pulled her up out of the water.
Only when she felt the hard boards of the boat beneath her back did she
give a long shuddering sigh and surrender to the mist swirling all
about her.


Chapter Fourteen

Rachel felt herself being lowered onto the ground, overcome by a fit of
convulsive coughing as she tried to rid her lungs of the water. William
knelt beside her, cradling her head in his arms, unwinding her long
sleek hair which had become tangled about her body.

Her eyes were closed and circled with purple shadows, emphasised by the
deathly pallor of her face.  He shouted for someone to find something
warm to wrap her in and a blanket was quickly produced, which he
wrapped around her, wiping her wet hair from her face before gripping
her shoulders.

"Rachel----open your eyes.  Please I implore you."  Hearing his voice,
Rachel felt her lips move, but no sound came for she was trembling too
much.  The excruciating terror of her ordeal had seeped into the
deepest places of her mind and she was too weak, still too terrified,
to do anything other than shake.

Again William shook her in an attempt to get her to open her eyes, the
hideous fear which had gripped him when he thought he might lose her
beginning to recede when he saw she was breathing.  "Rachel273

look at me.  For God's sake, open your eyes and let me see you are all
right.  "

Gradually Rachel came out of the darkness, hearing a buzz of voices all
about her.  Opening her eyes, her vision was obscured by mist, but she
saw a blurred outline of someone bending over her.

"Thank God," said William, feeling that nothing could be compared to
the joy he felt.  His voice and the expression on his face gave
evidence to the relief he felt on seeing her open her eyes, but he
cringed when he saw they were wild with terror.  Death may have
receded, but fear would take longer.

Feeling a surge of deep compassion he drew her into his arms, holding
her tight in an effort to convey to her some of his warmth his love. In
her fear and desperate need for comfo he felt her press herself against
him.

"Be still, my love, be still," he murmured gently, placing his lips on
her brow, speaking the words naturally, for never would he know such
anguish, such agonising pain, as he had felt when, on searching for his
stepmother, his instinct had drawn him down to the lake.

When he had seen Rachel following her into the water, all the demons in
hell had broken loose inside his head.  It had been too late to save
his stepmother--and a moment longer Rachel, too, would have been lost
to him forever.  He had managed to bring her back from the brink of
death.  Never would he be parted from her again.

"I will take care of you.  Don't be frightened.  Come calm
yourself--you're all right now--you're safe.  It's all over I'm going
to carry you to the house, Rachel, There you will be tended to.  Do you
understand what I am saying?"

Rachel managed to nod her head, the mist receding 'from her eyes,
making his face clear to her.  She saw his clothes were wet, his shirt
clinging to his skin and his black hair glistening with droplets of
water.  Her eyes left his and became fixed on the glassy, rippling
water of the lake, so calm now, giving no evidence of the tragedy which
had taken place within its depths just a short while before.
Immediately her thoughts turned to Lady Kingsley.

"L-Lady Kingsley?"  she managed to ask hoarsely, searching his eyes for
the answer.

"She is no longer in the lake, my love.  We managed to recover her
body.  She is at peace now--which is a blessing after her torment of
the past years."

Rachel closed her eyes, unable to prevent the warm tears from oozing
out beneath her lids as she was overcome with a deep sorrowful sadness.
William picked her up and carried her, as effortlessly as if she
weighed nothing at all, upto the house.  She clung to him, shaking
uncontrollably, trying to speak but her words were disconnected.

As William carried her, with an anxious Stephen walking beside him, her
terror and trembling seemed to lessen as she became comforted by his
warmth, by his strength--and his love, which stole over her, giving her
warmth and security.

As her fear lessened and the tension inside her began to relax, she
wept softly, her face hidden against his chest, feeling her despair
being washed away and replaced with love and hope as she was carried by
this man she adored above all else, wondering how such exquisite
happiness could have been born out of such a grievous tragedy.

Rachel was put to bed at Mortlake Park and the doctor sent for, who
insisted she remain in bed until she was recovered from her ordeal.
There was no question of her returning home to Meadowfield Lodge for
the present, so Stephen left to fetch their father while Rachel gave
herself up to the ministerings of the two maids Lord Kingsley had
selected to look after her.

When William saw her after the doctor had left, and he had bathed and
changed into some dry clothes, he could see the ordeal had taken its
toll.  Her face was drawn and as white as the pillows against which she
lay; the full horror of Lady Kingsley's death--which was almost
certainly suicide--was still to be seen in her lovely eyes.

He sat beside her and she came into his arms gladly, almost like a
child seeking comfort and reassurance, for she was still prey to her
haunting fears.  He placed his lips gently on the crown of her shining
black hair, which snaked its way down her back like a silken sheath.

"How are you feeling now?"  he asked quietly.

"A little better," she whispered.  "Oh, William---it was so terrible. I
truly believed I was going to die."

William's arms tightened around her, for-there had been moments when he
had thought this also.  "I know," he said hoarsIcy, overcome with
emotion.  "Thank God I saw you--that I managed to reach you in time.
Another moment, my love, and I fear I would have been too late.  I was
searching for my stepmother, who had gone missing.  Imagine how I felt
when I saw you in the water--what horrors I suffered."

Rachel leaned back in his arms and looked at him.  "How did you know to
look for her down by the lake?"

He shrugged.  "Instinct mainly.  Although she had a fascination for
water, which may have had something to do with her being brought up on
Antigua.  Her home was very close to the sea."

"Please tell me about Lady Kingsley.  Help me to understand why she did
that terrible thing--what drove her to it.  She--she did mean to kill
herself, didn't she?"

William sighed and took her hand, becoming thoughtful as he raised it
to his lips, his eyes meeting hers.  "Yes.  Seeing at first hand the
torment she went through, how much she suffered, then I believe she
did.  But are you sure you want to hear what was wrong with her now?
Perhaps it would be wiser to wait until tomorrow--until you are feeling
better."

"Noelease tell me now.  I--I feel so sorry for her so sad.  She must
have been terribly unhappy."

William nodded, sighing deeply.  "Yes, she was.  But the sadness of it
all was that there was nothing anyone could do to help her.  Just the
day before James married your sister, the doctor declared her to be
insane."

Rachel's expression of relative calm changed to one of deep concern and
her white face became even whiter.  She already suspected that his
stepmother had suffered from some kind of disorder of the mind--but
insanity?  Surely not.  This was too dreadful to contemplate.

"Insane?"

William nodded.

Rachel was stricken nearly insensible, the pupils of her eyes enormous
as she stared at him wordlessly in growing horror of what this could
mean to Kitty's unborn child---of what it would do to Kitty.

"Oh, no--no--dear Lord."  Her voice was agonised as she whispered a
frantic prayer in her throat.  'l--I don't understand, she said in
appalled terror, her eyes staring into his with silent appeal when the
full force of what he had said struck her like an ice-cold
blast----that Kitty's child might be tainted with the same insanity.

"Dear God, William," she cried, gripping his hands, very much afraid
suddenly.  "Tell me it is not true--for I know it is said that insanity
in a family can be passed on through the generations.  K-Kitty's child!
Oh, when my sister discovers this she will be devastated.  I know there
will be no consoling her."

"Hush, Rachel," William said, gathering her up into his arms and
cradling her trembling body closely as he prepared to allay her fears,
alarmed by her reaction and beginning to wish he'd kept it from her
until she was stronger.  "Don't torture yourself.  There's no need."

"But how do you know?  How can you know?"  she cried, quite distraught,
staring at him with searching inquiry as she tried to comprehend what
he had told her--and the terrible legacy Lady Kingsley had left to
Kitty's unborn child.

"Please---calm yourself.  What I have to tell you will offer
reassurance--I promise."

"Then tell me," she said, her eyes fastened on his for him to tell her
that everything would be all right.  He had to.  He must.

"Some time ago I employed a Mr.  Hopkins to go to Antigua to make
enquiries into my stepmother's family background.  He has since
returned to England and came to Mortlake this vory day to tell me of
his findings."

"W-which are?"

"That there is no history of hereditary insanity in her family
whatsoever.  This being the case, the doctor who certified her death
has told me it is highly unlikely that whatever caused my stepmother's
mental disorder will be passed on to future generations."

"But how can he be certain of this?  How can anyone know?"

"Unfortunately, mental disorders are still a dark territory.  I have
made a study of the illness and very little is known of the human mind.
The physicians I have talked to have explained as much as they can--and
how, if the illness is hereditary, it passes from one generation to the
next.

"Through his investigations, Mr.  Hopkins did discover that my
stepmother suffered a serious fall from a horse a year before she met
my father-and that she was rendered unconscious for sveral days.  The
doctor believes this may have had something to do with her condition.
If so, it will go no further."

Rachel stared at him, a flicker of hope stirring within her.  "Can he
be certain?"

"No nothing is certain.  But it is highly likely."

Swallowing hard, Rachel looked at him steadily.  "Then that is what I
shall believe."

William nodded.  "Yes.  We all must.  Before knowing any of this, it
was natural that I was afraid the illness might be passed through James
and Amanda to their offspring.  I hope this will explain why I could
not give my consent for Stephen to marry Amanda--and the shock it was
to me when you told me Kitty was carrying James's child.  Knowing what
I did, it would not have been fair to Stephen to give my consent until
I knew more.

"However, where Kitty and James were concerned, it was too late, for
the deed was already done.  But because of the stigma attached to
mental disorders, I preferred to keep the matter to myself until it
could be guaranteed the illness was not hereditary.  Do you
understand?"

"Yes--I understand perfectly--and you were right to conceal your fears
that such a terrible illness might be passed on.  Although, had I known
that your refusal to consent to a marriage between Stephen and Amanda
had nothing to do with my family's social inferiority, I would not have
judged you so harshly.  I can only thank God everything has been
resolved--but what a dreadful worry it must have been for all of
you."

Because the doctor had certified Lady Brayfield's insanity just the day
before his brother's wedding, it also explained to Rachel that this
could be the reason why his manner had been so austere, so remote. "How
long was she ill, William?"

"For several years--although over recent months her condition became
much worse.  My father knew long before his death--soon after his
marriage, in fact that something was happening to her, for she suffered
constantly from headaches and always appeared stressed.

"Gradually, her behaviour became more and more irrational over the
years her moods erratic.  When my father died, she became much Worse
and became obsessive about Amanda---and especially so about James.  She
became quite demented when she learned he was to marry.  She hated to
let him out of her sight for a moment--which, sadly, became one of the
reasons why he spent so much of his time away from Mortlake."

"So--it would seem her condition had nothing to do with your father's
death.  I--I know she came from Antigua that she did not come to
England until she married your father.  Did she find it difficult to
settle at Mortlake?"

"Yes.  Oh, she tried to make the best of it and liked it well enough,
especially when James was born--but she always yearned for Antigua and
always said how she envied me each time I went over to Barbados.  It
broke my father's heart when he saw what was happening to her but, of
course, like all mental disorders and because of the stigma attached to
any disease of the mind, he went to great lengths to COnceal what was
wrong with her."

"Will you write to Amandaelling her of her mother's death?"

"Yes.  I shall have to let her know, of course.  No doubt she will want
to return immediately."

"And James?"

"Yes, James, also.  Although I doubt he will return to Oxfordshire
until after the child is born."

"What will you do if Amanda's feelings for

Stephen are unchanged?  Will you still refuse to give your consent to
their marriage?  "

William smiled crookedly and his dark eyes twinkled.  "My darling
girl--I am hardly likely to do that when I have designs on his sister.
When we are married--'

"Wait," gasped Rachel, a spark of the old Rachel showing through.
"There you go again.  Your impertinence will never cease to astound me,
Lord Kingsley.  Don't you think you should ask me first?"

He laughed, drawing her into his arms.  "You are quite right, of
course---and I stand rebuked.  But I must warn you, my love, that I
will not take no for an answer.  When you went after my stepmother into
the lake, I almost lost you.  I do not intend doing so again--and i
shall not release you until I receive a satisfactory answer," he said,
tightening his arms around her.  "So, come, What do you say?  Do not
keep me in suspense a moment longer."

Within the protective circle of his arms, Rachel tilted her head up to
his, looking into his eyes, which had become dark and serious, knowing
there was nothing she wanted more in life other than to be joined to
him for ever.

"Yes," she whispered, "I will marry you.  I love you, William.  I shall
be proud to be your wife."

The funeral of Lady Kingsley was a sad and quiet affair attended by
few.  She was interred in the family vault at Ellerton Church along
with her husband--and after a respectful period of mourning, William
and Rachel were married and she went to live at Mortlake Park.

Amanda returned to Mortlake deeply saddened by her mother's death and
the circumstances of it, but her grief was relieved by Stephen's
presence, his support and gentle solicitude.  Their feelings for each
other remained unchanged--in fact, the long separation had increased
their love.  Anyone seeing them together could be in no doubt that
another wedding uniting the Kingsley and the Fair Icy families could
not be too far away.

Darkness had fallen and William and Rachel-were alone in the room they
shared, having retired for the night.  They lay side by side on their
rumpled bed, William leaning on his elbow and looking down at his
wife's face, flushed pink in the soft glow of light that bathed the
room.

Having fallen into a light sleep as she often did after their
love-making, which always left them both blissfully fulfilled, her eyes
were closed and he remained unmoving, afraid to break the magic of the
moment, pride almost bursting his heart as he looked down at her
sleeping face.

She was so beautiful that he was mesmerised by her sheer perfection.
She looked fragile, faun-like, her body as slender as a wand; he was
often afraid he would break her in the passion of his embrace.  He
never ceased to marvel at the fact that she was his wife, that she
belonged to him completely---and that she gave herself to him with a
passion and intensity that equalled his own and brought them a wondrous
awe.

Since their marriage there was no longer any need for reticence between
them.  Here, within their own private room, they came together night
after wonderful night in timeless enchantment, in blissful union, two
people, a man and a woman who loved each other unconditionally and
unashamedly.

It had not taken Rachel long to settle down at Mortlake Park and think
of it as her home, although it would be a long time, if ever, before
she would be able to look at the calm waters of the lake without
remembering it had almost claimed her life as well as that of his
stepmother.

She stirred and opened her eyes sleepily, smiling up at him, happiness
giving her an inner glow that shone through.  With a happy sigh of
contentment, she nestled closer to him.

"What are you thinking?"  she murmured.  "How lucky I am to have such a
beautiful wife and how amiable you have become, my love," he teased
gently.  "There is scarcely a trace of the contrary young woman I came
to know in the early days of our acquaintance."

"Do not be deceived, for she is still there--lurking somewhere in the
background."  Rachel smiled softly, stirring within his arms, sighing
and lifting her brilliant eyes to his, letting them feast on his
handsome features.  She adored this man, her husband, and everything
about him, and she had come to know him like she did no other---the
smell of him and every muscle and contour of his fine body.

His ardour had taken away her inhibitions and she always gave herself
to him with unrestrained delight, but how she wished he would not
remind her of those early days of their acquaintance when she had
treated him so abominably.

Reaching up she placed a gentle kiss on his lips, sighing and nestling
within the tender and protective circle of his arms.  "How I have
agonised over my rudeness, my preconceived and ill-founded opinion of
you in the early days of our acquaintance.  My ignorance as to the
merits of your character has caused me to reproach myself many
times."

"Then I must beg you not to," he murmured with his lips against her
hair, breathing deeply and drawing in the delicious fragrance of her
body.  "You sincerely thought your opinions to be well founded, and I
did little to enlighten you to give you any reason to think better of
me.  I deceived you knowingly into believing that what you had heard
regarding any defects in my character to be the truth.

"It was both cruel and indefensible, so if there is any blame to be
attached to anyone then I must take my share of it also.  But all that
is in the past--let us forget it.  Come," he said, rolling her on to
her back and kissing the lips she offered, 'there are other, more
important matters to interest us now.  I want to hear you say you love
me.  "

Rachel smiled happily, putting her arms about his neck and drawing his
face closer to her own, seeing the need in his eyes that matched her
own--a need that would not be satisfied until the sweet, agonising
moment of fulfillment.

"Of that you need not ask.  Have I not convinced you of it many
times?"