"I hope not, Jem. In any case, you are plainly not to blame. You may go now, but have my horses readyto put to the curricle at a moment's notice.""Yes, my lord." The groom looked at his mistress. "My lady, I wou'n't do nowt to harm Miss Selena!""I know, Jem. I trust you absolutely. Now go and do as his lords.h.i.+p ordered." Lady Whitton turned to Iverbrook. "Hugh, I cannot believe that Aubrey acted with malice, any more than Jem did. His

understanding is not superior. He surely meant only to give Amabel pleasure by inviting her to join us."

"Possibly, though I think it unlikely. You are too charitable, ma'am! How, pray, do you propose to exculpate Amabel?"

Her ladys.h.i.+p sighed. "Perhaps Lady Anne was right and I ought not to have welcomed Amabel. But how could I guess?"

"Guess what, Mama?" queried Delia.

Iverbrook had the grace to colour and ponder momentarily the unfairness that excluded his mistress, but not him, from polite society. Lady Whitton looked fl.u.s.tered. Mr. Hastings stepped into the breach.

"Never you mind, young lady," he said, conveniently forgetting that it was he who had revealed to her mother the relations.h.i.+p between the viscount and the Merry Widow. "Hugh, what do you mean to do now?"

"Nothing, I suppose, until we hear from the Russells." He resumed his pacing, with increased energy. "If that loose fish has harmed a hair of her head, I shall horsewhip him!"

"No, no, I say, my dear fellow, can't do that! Fellow's a gentleman. Have to call him out."

"Gentleman!" snorted his lords.h.i.+p. "If the Bart is a gentleman, then I am a dandy!"

Mr. Hastings took one look at his friend's ruffled hair, loosened neckcloth, and dusty boots, and conceded the point.

Lady Whitton, striving for calm, discovered that Hugh had not dined; she sent for refreshments. He was

methodically disposing of a plate of cold beef and plum tart when young Mr. Russell burst into the room."My lord, your servant says Miss Whitton did not come home with Delia! I'd never have left had Iguessed . . . had I not supposed . . . I beg your pardon, ma'am, but I hold myself to blame." He looked wretched.

"Oh fustian, Clive!" said Delia firmly. "Of course you supposed that Selena would go with us, and when we found you gone we supposed she had gone with you."

"I should have left a message at the Crown."

"It might have helped," said Lord Iverbrook, abandoning his meal. "The best thing you can do now is to tell us exactly what happened at the abbey."

Clive flushed to the roots of his hair and studied his boots. "Dee went off with Mr. Hastings," he said in a low voice, "and I was telling the others a bit about the place. Ghost stories and such. We went into the building where the monks lived and . . . and Mrs. Parcott wanted to see what it was like to be shut up in a cell. We went into one-all of us went in-that had an undamaged door. Most of them are rotted away, you know. And I closed the door and she was frightened-Mrs. Parcott, that is. It was sort of murky in there, with just a tiny hole in the wall for light. So I opened the door again and she rushed out. She was holding onto my sleeve and she pulled me with her. Miss Whitton and Sir Aubrey stayed in the cell, talking."

"Selena never talked to Cousin Aubrey," Delia said with conviction.

"Are you calling me a liar, Dee?" demanded Clive belligerently.

"I expect she was listening politely to one of his discourses," soothed Lady Whitton.

"Pretending to listen!" said Delia.

"Go on, Mr. Russell," said Lord Iverbrook. "This grows interesting."

"Anyway, they did not go with us. We went back along the corridor a little way and then Mrs. Parcott tripped. There was all sorts of debris on the floor. She hurt her ankle quite badly. Or so she said," he frowned, "for later she had no limp, now I come to think of it."

The viscount stood up, as if inaction was more than he could hear. Clive looked at him in alarm and he sat down again.

"Go on."

"She begged me to fetch my carriage and drive as close as I could. She was to meet the person who had brought her to Abingdon at the Crown, but could not walk so far. So I left her seated on a fallen beam and went to get the carriage. When I returned I helped her to the carriage, and then it seemed silly just to take her to the Crown, so I drove her home. She invited me in," Clive's face was scarlet again, his eyes on his feet, "for refreshments. When I left, it was nearly dark and it seemed pointless to go back to the abbey. I was sure everyone must have left. So I went home."

"Thank you," said his lords.h.i.+p, wondering just what form Amabel's grat.i.tude had taken. He stood up again. "Unless anyone has other suggestions, I believe we can a.s.sume Selena is still at the abbey. I shall go and fetch her."

"I'll come with you!" offered Delia, Clive, and Mr. Hastings all at once.

"I think not." Iverbrook smiled at Lady Whitton. "I shall bring her home safe, ma'am, never fear."

"Dear Hugh, I'm sure you will," she said simply.

Jem was just as determined to go with the viscount.

"If the Bart's hurt Miss Selena, I'll help you give him a taste o' home-brewed!" he suggested.

"Thank you, Jem, but you may rest a.s.sured that if the baronet stands in need of a dusting, I shall administer it."

"His lords.h.i.+p peels to advantage," said Tom Arbuckle drily. "He won't need no help to darken the Bart's daylights."

"Handy with your fives, eh, my lord?" The groom looked over his tall, rangy form with a knowledgeable eye. "Good reach, I'd say."

"And good science, and all the will in the world. Spring 'em!" Jem stood away from the horses' heads and his lords.h.i.+p took them out of the stableyard at a rattling pace. Not since the day he had found Peter had he driven down the drive in such haste, but then he had been in a fury, distracted. This time he was coldly collected, in control, aware of every moon-shadow that might force him to slacken his speed. The curricle swung into the lane and he let the greys have their heads. They had done one stage already today but they were once again the prime cattle he remembered. They flew towards Abingdon.

Selena knew that if she did not move soon, she would not be able to move at all. She trembled constantly and the numbness that had started in her toes was creeping up to her knees.

The torch over the Nag's Head sign had guttered out some time ago. A merry couple went into the tavern and closed the door behind them. There was no one on the bridge, only the moonlight to give her away.

She pulled herself painfully to her feet and staggered out onto the bridge. One hand on the parapet, she had taken several faltering steps when, with a ring of hooves on paving, a carriage appeared out of the darkness and started towards her.

It was moving fast. Perhaps the driver would not see her. She cowered against the wall, lost her balance, and fell full length in the roadway.

With an oath from the driver, the horses pulled up inches from her head. He jumped down and strode towards her. She tried to move, managed to rise to her knees, and faced him, holding her torn s.h.i.+ft together with shaking hands.

"Selena!" Iverbrook dropped to his knees and hugged her to him. "My darling, I thought you were a ghost! Ye G.o.ds, you are cold enough to be one, and wet through!"

He picked her up, his strong arms holding her close. She tried to speak; numb lips and chattering teeth would not obey her.

"Hush, my love. You shall tell me later." He bent his head and kissed her, and she discovered her lips were not as numb as she had thought. He lifted her into the carriage and climbed up beside her. "First we must dry you, and I cannot take you to an inn for in your present condition the damage to your reputation would be beyond all repairing. You will have to take off your wet, uh, garment." He pulled a fur rug from under the seat and held it so as to s.h.i.+eld her from anyone coming out of the tavern.

"Close your eyes," she whispered, and when he did, she struggled out of her s.h.i.+ft. Reaching to take the rug from him, she touched his fingers and he opened his eyes. He caught a glimpse of her slim, pale body gleaming in the moonlight and quickly closed them again.

Eyes screwed shut, he helped her pull the rug around her. His hand brushed her naked breast. She

s.h.i.+vered, not, this time, from cold.

The horses moved restlessly. Quickly Selena arranged the rug to cover her toes yet provide maximum decency. Already she felt much warmer.

"Ready," she said.

Iverbrook took one look at her bare shoulders and stripped off his many-caped driving coat. As he draped it about her, somehow their lips met and he held her for a long moment, until the jingling of the

horses' bits reminded him of where they were. His left arm still around her, he picked up the reins in his right hand and urged the greys on.

He turned the curricle in the deserted marketplace, needing both hands for the job, and they drove back

across the bridge in silence. How beautiful the Thames looked under the moon! A faint mist rose from its glimmering surface and a swan floated downstream in proud solitude.

Selena cleared her throat.

"How did your business go in London?" she asked.

They were on the pike road, and the viscount could have spared an arm for his companion. Somehow, he felt, it would have been taking advantage of her dependence on him.

"Very well," he answered. "I had to sign some papers for my lawyer before ten o'clock this morning, in order to put a final end to that wretched lawsuit."

"Peter?"

"Yes."

"Oh." A pause. "Mama did not expect you back until tomorrow."

"I could not stay away, knowing that you thought . . . not knowing what you thought! Selena, what has your mother told you, or Hasty, about Sat.u.r.day night?"

"Only that you are not, perhaps, the villain that you seemed, and that I must hear the tale from you.

"I seemed a villain to you?"

"What could I suppose when Cousin Aubrey announced that he had seen you going upstairs with

Amabel!"

"He did not, I feel sure, explain that I was unconscious at the time."

"Unconscious! Oh Hugh!"

"Drugged. After what has happened today, I would wager half my fortune on it."

Ignored, the horses slowed to a walk as he told what he had learned of Amabel's and Aubrey's actions

over the past few days. She reciprocated with the story of her escape from the abbey, which led to many

expressions of admiration and the return of his arm to her waist. Selena leaned against him.

"I know that Aubrey wants to marry me," she said in puzzlement, "but why should Amabel wish to help him?"

Iverbrook was glad she could not see his flushed face. "If he marries you," he pointed out, "then I

cannot. And she has been setting her cap at me for years."