Nell sent Harry a look of desperate entreaty. He could see she was on the verge of blurting everything out. She'd wanted to tell his aunt what they were doing. It was only right if they were going to be bringing Torie into Lady Gosforth's home, she said. She might object.

She might indeed, Harry thought, remembering his own first experience with his aunt. Few people would condone illegitimacy. Aunt Maude had made an exception for a blood relative then, but he was well aware that it was Gabe who'd forced her hand. Nell's baby was no relation to her.

He gave Nell a tiny shake of the head and told his aunt, "Very well, you can have Nell for two hours today from one o'clock onward."

"Two hours?" His aunt gave a disapproving huff. "You expect me to arrange a trousseau in two hours?"

"No, but you can get have your mantua maker here at one o'clock when we return for luncheon and she can take all Nell's measurements. That will give you something to start on."

"But Nell will want to choose, you foolish boy. The whole point of new clothes is the pleasure of deciding, isn't it, my dear?"

Nell stared at her, wanting to scream with frustration. Lady Gosforth was being very kind but Nell just wanted to leave and look for her daughter. Now! She didn't care about clothes.

But generosity had been thin on the ground in Nell's life recently, and she couldn't reject Lady Gosforth's kindness, especially when she'd put everything aside for Nell's benefit. Torn, she looked at Harry, not knowing what to say or do.

He stepped forward. "Her maid can do it," he said. "She can shop for Nell."

Cooper, standing quietly in the doorway, gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth in shock.

Nell, too, was stunned, but it was a brilliant solution. Nell had limited interest in clothes at the best of times and none at all at the moment, but Cooper . . . Cooper would love it.

"Her maid?" exclaimed Lady Gosforth, appalled. "Harry, don't be ridiculous!"

Nell raised her brows at Cooper.

"Why not?" Harry continued. "You said yourself she was talented. She'll know what Nell needs."

Cooper, incredulous but eager, nervously nodded back at Nell.

"But you can't. A maid is all very well," declared Lady Gosforth, "but she simply can't-"

"It's the perfect solution," Nell interrupted. "I truly don't have the time at present to go shopping, but Cooper does know what I need, and she has excellent taste. I'm sure she will also benefit from your advice, and that of Miss Bragge," she added tactfully. "You don't mind, do you, Cooper?" Nell asked, waving her in.

Cooper's eyes shone with excitement. "Oh no, m'lady. You won't be sorry, trusting me in this, m'lady, I promise you."

"Excellent," Harry said briskly, as if the impatience to go was all his. "Now I'm sorry but we really have to leave."

"But I was looking forward to taking Nell shopping," said Lady Gosforth, disgruntled.

Nell pulled her arm from Harry's grip and ran back and gave the elderly lady a hug. "And I would love to go shopping with you, too, dear Lady Gosforth," she told her. "But this truly is urgent business. I'm sorry, but we will have a lifetime in which to go shopping, won't we?"

"Yes, my dear, I suppose so. It's just, your trousseau-"

"Will be a beautiful surprise."

Lady Gosforth considered the thought and brightened a little.

"We'll see you at one, Aunt Maude," Harry said and escorted Nell to the waiting curricle.

His friends each had a curricle and pair, she saw. Their grooms had been walking them up and down to keep the horses from getting cold. "What splendid horses," she commented as Harry lifted her up. She swiveled in her seat and eyed the two pairs critically as he climbed in after her.

Rafe and Luke, who were waiting for their curricles to be brought up, stared. "Good God," Luke exclaimed. "Don't tell me she likes horses as well? She is the perfect woman."

"I know," growled Harry, wrapping an arm around her and hauling her along the seat to his side. "But she's mine. See you at one."

Nell gave him a sideways glance and a shy smile. The perfect woman? She knew it was just part of the banter he had with his friends, but his gruff possessiveness warmed her. As did the hard band of muscle clamping her to his side. It stayed there long after his friends had disappeared.

As they continued their search for her daughter, Nell vowed that next time she woke to find him in her bed she would not be such a coward.

"So, who was Torie's father?" Harry asked out of the blue. The question had been eating at him ever since he'd understood what had happened to her.

Beside him, Nell stiffened. They'd just left one of the cottages in which an abandoned baby girl had been placed with a wet nurse. Yet another baby girl who wasn't Torie.

"You don't need to tell me any details," he said quickly. "Just who he was."

"No one," she told him.

"Nell."

"You don't need to know. There's no point."

No point? Of course there was a point. He kept his voice calm. "Why do you say that?"

"My father tried to call him out after-you know. He used the pretext of cheating at cards-it would have made a scandal if it had been over me. Papa wanted above all to protect my reputation."

It would have been a damn sight more to the point if Papa had protected his daughter in the first place, Harry thought with quiet fury.

"But Sir-he-the man-refused to fight Papa. He called him a poor loser, but he knew what it was about."

"So he knows about the bab-"

"He knows nothing," she said vehemently. "He doesn't even know I fell pregnant in the first place. Papa challenged him months before I realized my . . . my condition."

"I see."

She gave him a square look. "And if I gave you a name, you'd probably want to do the same as Papa, wouldn't you?"

Not quite, Harry thought. He wouldn't challenge a piece of scum like that to a gentleman's duel on some pretext and then give up when the scoundrel declined to fight. He would just beat the bastard to a pulp.

She must have read the truth in his eyes, for she nodded. "Only two people know who fathered my child and Papa was one of them. He-the man knows nothing about it and that's the way I want it to stay. It's better for everyone, Torie especially."

Harry could see that. She wouldn't want her daughter to know she was the child of rape. Who would?

But the question still gnawed at Harry. Who the hell was the swine?

They returned to Mount Street at one o'clock. As well as luncheon Harry had arranged to rendezvous with Rafe and Luke to see what they'd learned.

Nell was feeling disheartened and gloomy. The list of places to search that Harry had made when they'd first begun their search was getting shorter. They'd covered so much ground and still there was no sign of Torie.

And she was upset and angry with Harry. "How can you tell it's not Torie?" he'd asked at the last place. Adding, "All babies look alike to me."

All babies were not alike, and she was furious with him for suggesting it. She'd flared up at him and snapped his head off for the remark and they'd come home the rest of the way in silence.

But with silence had come reflection, and with reflection a terrible realization.

His comment was innocent enough; she knew he hadn't meant anything by it. The problem was it had ripped off a scab, one she'd been trying to ignore. And underneath, the fears and doubts were festering.

Would she, in fact, recognize her own child? Her heart told her she would, but the more cribs, the more tiny chubby faces she saw with fuzzy domes and solemn expressions and rosebud mouths, the more the doubts started to creep in . . .

Babies changed so much in six weeks.

After luncheon, which was eaten in an atmosphere of quiet tension, Nell was whisked off by Lady Gosforth to be measured for her trousseau.

She liked pretty clothes as much as the next person, but now, the whole process chafed at her. They measured every imaginable part of her, the thin, ferociously stylish mantua maker wielding a tape measure and rapping out numbers in French to her assistant. Then her feet and calves were measured and a template drawn. And then her head likewise, and a number of hats commissioned, including one for riding.

Nell endured it all in relative silence, trying to be as polite and cooperative as she could but wholly unable to enter into the spirit of things. She left most of the decisions to Lady Gosforth, Cooper, and Bragge.

She felt sick at heart. What if Torie was one of those babies they'd seen and her own mother hadn't recognized her?

The mantua maker, the boot maker, the tailor-for her habit-and the milliner's assistant noticed nothing amiss, but Lady Gosforth did.

The moment they'd finished, Lady Gosforth dismissed them all. As soon as they were alone she pushed Nell onto the settee and plumped down beside her. "What's the matter?" she demanded, fixing her with a gimlet stare.

"Matter?" Nell began.

"Don't try any of that nonsense on me, young lady. Do you think just because I use spectacles for reading that I cannot see what's as plain as the nose on my face? Whatever it is that's been taking you and my nephew out all day every day, it's got nothing to do with Harry's legal business or the estate. It's all about you. I can see it in his eyes."

Nell bit her lip.

Lady Gosforth continued, "Last night you came home looking as sick as a parrot, and now both of you have returned with faces as long as a wet week. And you, my girl, have approached the purchase of some beautiful clothes-clothes that any other young woman your age would give her eyeteeth for-as if it were a . . . a visit to the dentist. So . . ." She waited.

Nell didn't know where to start. She'd wanted to explain to Lady Gosforth about her daughter; it hadn't felt right not to tell her. She was relieved now that the moment had come, but it was all so huge, she didn't know how to begin.

Lady Gosforth leaned forward and took her hand. "Listen, my dear," she began in a much softer tone, "I never did have a daughter, though it was the dearest wish of my life, and you don't seem to have a mother, so-"

Nell burst into tears.

By the time Harry came to fetch Nell, wondering what had held her up, Nell had sobbed out most of her story on Lady Gosforth's large and comforting bosom.

As soon as he entered, Nell jumped to her feet, saying, "Is it time to leave now?"

Harry's gaze shot straight to her red-rimmed eyes.

"It's all right, Harry," Lady Gosforth said. "Nell has told me everything and we've both had a good cry, which has done both of us a power of good, though you wouldn't think so to look at us, I know. Now off you go and find that baby."

They walked together to the front door, where the curricle was waiting. Lady Gosforth gave Nell a quick hug. "You will know her when you see her, my dear, I am certain, so don't worry."

Harry gave Nell a shocked look. "Was that what upset you before?" he asked as they drove off. "The fear that you wouldn't recognize Torie?"

She nodded miserably. He put his arm around her, saying nothing.

They returned late again that night after another long and fruitless day. Harry tried to boost Nell's spirits all through supper, but a small stone of doubt had settled in her heart.

If her daughter was lost forever, Nell didn't know how she could ever live with the knowledge. If she'd only slept that night with Torie in her arms, instead of leaving her in the basket . . . It would haunt her forever. She could never forgive herself.

Harry sat beside her, talking with quiet resolution of what tomorrow might bring and passing her dishes he hoped would tempt her appetite. Though her fears had driven away all appetite, Nell ate to please him and because she knew she should.

She might be plagued with doubts and fears and riddled with guilt, but she would never give up on her daughter. While there was breath in her body, she would search.

Thirteen.