She looked at him and suddenly she was in his arms and they were kissing again. Their last day together. Their own special mobile world.

"How did you know about the harem?" she asked him a long time later.

"Tariq and I have a history going back to when we were boys. You might almost say we are related."

"Related?"

He settled her more comfortably against him and began the story. "One of the places I lived in as a boy was Napoli-Naples. Even now I have mixed feelings about it. We'd pretty much run out of funds by then-my mother had managed to eke out an existence by the sale of her jewels, the only thing she took with her when she fled from my father. I spent a lot of time down by the docks. There were opportunities for a quick-witted boy who was also prepared to work hard."

She hugged him, remembering the boy who had dived for coins.

"One day a boy-not one of us, a rich man's son-was accidentally knocked into the water when men were loading cargo. Nobody else saw him fall. I watched and he didn't come up-he must have been hit on the head. So I dived in and pulled him out."

"You saved his life."

He nodded. "That was Tariq. His father owned the ship that was being loaded. He took me aboard and fed me and then, for some reason, decided to thank my parents in person." He grimaced. "I did everything I could think of to stop him coming-my mother was embarrassed by the way we lived-but he insisted."

He was silent for a long moment, remembering. "It was love at first sight. Tariq's father and my mother." His arms tightened around her and he rubbed his jaw against her curls. "When the ship departed for Egypt, my mother and I were on it. He bought her a beautiful house in Alexandria and we never lacked for money again."

"But wasn't he married? I mean, he had a son."

"Oh, Faisal was married, with several wives. My mother became his mistress and he treated her better than my father ever treated his wife. She owned the house he bought for her-the deed was in her name. He gave her a large sum of money and paid all the household expenses and settled an annuity on her. Security for her lifetime."

Faisal. "The poetry book?"

He nodded.

His mother was "my dove, my heart, my beloved."

"But it wasn't about money-Faisal adored Mama and treated her like a princess. And she loved him. I never saw her so happy. He was a good man. He even arranged for me to be schooled with Tariq." His voice hardened. "Until my father got his claws into me and had me brought to England to be schooled. I wouldn't have let them take me if Mama wasn't safe and happy."

There was a long silence in the carriage. "It broke her heart when Faisal died."

The horses' hooves clip-clopped on the road. A dog barked from a nearby farm. Grace remembered what Frey had told her, how Dominic's mother had died in his arms. She held him tight. The rain pelted down.

Chapter Twenty.

How blest am I in this discovering thee! To enter in these bonds, is to be free; JOHN DONNE.

"That's all very well, young Grace," Sir Oswald demanded crossly. "But what the deuce are you doin' travelin' all the way-overnight!-to London alone and unchaperoned-- and no, the dratted dog doesn't count!-with some strange feller I've never met before today, when you're supposed to be at some dratted country house party with Sir John and Melly Pettifer?"

Grace swallowed. She'd prepared her little speech, and it had sounded quite good in the carriage, in her head. But Great Uncle Oswald hadn't swallowed it at all.

Worse, Prudence and her husband, Gideon, in London were not the only members of her family visiting Great Uncle Oswald and Aunt Gussie. So were all her sisters and their husbands. And none of them looked at all impressed with what Grace had had to say.

Except for Aunt Gussie, who was eyeing Dominic with quite blatant, not to say embarrassing, admiration.

Dominic, however, didn't look a bit embarrassed. Nor did he look the slightest bit concerned about Great Uncle Oswald's questions. Or the threatening looks being given him by her four large, angry, and muscular brothers-in-law. She glanced at Edward and amended that to three large, angry, and muscular brothers-in-law and one medium-sized, cross duke, her brother-in-law Edward.

Dominic was apparently so unconcerned about Great Uncle Oswald's rant that he kept looking from her to her sisters and back, quite clearly comparing them for family similarities. And once, she'd actually seen him give Aunt Gussie a wink.

They were going to tear him limb from limb.

And if they didn't, she was going to. Her speech would have worked perfectly well if Dominic hadn't kept interrupting with his "helpful" explanations, reassuring them that Sheba was an excellent chaperone, and that a harem wasn't nearly the den of vice people would imagine.

"Aunt Gussie," Grace's brother-in-law Gideon interrupted smoothly. "Why don't you and the girls take Grace off somewhere more comfortable and have a little chat with her. We gentlemen will have a quiet word with D'Acre."

"Excellent idea, my dear boy," Lady Augusta declared, and in a trice had swept all the ladies from the room, leaving Dominic to face a gaggle of angry aristocrats.

Three of the brothers-in-law faced him with tight, cold faces and clenched fists. He knew what to expect. It was not the first time he'd faced a gang of England's finest bullyboys. The only difference was that he was no longer a schoolboy.

Gideon, Lord Carradice, spoke first. "So, D'Acre. I think you have some explaining to do."

Dominic inspected his nails.

"Out with it man! Speak up!" snapped Blacklock, another brother-in-law.

Military background there, thought Dominic. He picked a piece of fluff off his sleeve.

"Fellow needs a good thrashing," growled the one called Reyne.

Dominic shrugged. He shrugged out of his coat and started to roll up his sleeves.

"What the devil do you think you're doing?" Carradice demanded irritably.

"Preparing to defend myself."

"What?"

"In my experience the sons of gentlemen don't usually like to listen. But I quite enjoy a fight, so we might as well get it over with."

"Well, we intend to talk. Or rather, listen. We're not at all clear on what's going on here, so before we give you the thrashing you probably do deserve, we want some answers."

Dominic frowned. Carradice almost sounded ironic.

The duke asked in a quiet, dignified voice, "What are your intentions toward our sister-in-law?"

Dominic shrugged. "I'd have thought even a blind man could see that."

Gideon rolled his eyes. "Dammit, man, stop fencing or I will be forced to thump you!" Dominic shrugged again. "I've done my level best to get her to agree to be my mistress."

Four men clenched their fists.

Carradice eyed him narrowly and held up his hand to ward the others from precipitous action. "You either have a wish to die young, or..."

Dominic said, "I'm going to marry her, of course." Why else did they think he'd brought her to London?

Carradice raised his brows. "Just like that? And if she refuses you? Or her family opposes you?"

Dominic examined his nails again."I expect you've heard rumors that she's an heiress," Reyne commented.Dominic said, "Her fortune is of no interest to me. I doubt it matches mine.""I suppose you know she's stubborn and argumentative. All the Merridew girls wear their husbands to shreds," said Carradice.

Dominic looked them over, each one relaxed, healthy, and almost smug with happiness. "Yes, you all have the look of henpecked men. Ah well, we must all bear our crosses in life."

"Do you love her?"

Dominic gave him a flat, unblinking stare. He had no intention of responding. That was for him and Grace alone. Carradice gave him a shrewd look. "When you first met Grace," he said slowly, "what was it about her that struck you?"

Dominic thought for a moment. "Her foot."

"Her foot?" they chorused.

"Yes." He gave an insolent smile. "She kicked me. Twice!" If that didn't make the fists start flying, nothing would.

"Kicked you?" Gideon glanced at the others in triumph and said, "The Limb kicked him! I knew it! We have a love match on our hands!"

Dominic couldn't believe his ears. "I think you misunderstood," he said. "I told you she kicked me!"

Carradice smiled at his confusion. "Yes, she did the same to me the first day we met. It's why I call her the Limb. It's an excellent sign. You see, dear boy, we thought she'd been broken of the habit long since. She must have been keeping it in reserve for a special occasion."

Carradice and the duke both shook his hand and left.

Dominic stared after them. "But I deserved the kick. I kissed her. Twice."

Blacklock and Reyne laughed. "Let me give you a tip," said Blacklock as he passed. "Once you've kissed a Merridew girl... there's no point fighting."

Sir Oswald Merridew glared at him from under beetling white brows. "Well, come on, D'Acre, don't stand there like a stump! If you're goin' to marry m'great-niece, we have settlements to discuss! And I'll tell you straight, they'd better be good!"

"I wouldn't have it any other way," said Dominic stiffly. "I have no wish to touch a penny of her money. It shall be in the settlements that she retains everything."

Sir Oswald raised his bushy white brows. "Happen't'know your estate's in a bad way."

"It's not your concern. It shan't affect her. I have my own private fortune that is unaffected by my father's will."

The old man nodded, then creaked to his feet. "That's what my informant said, too."

He chuckled at Dominic's look of surprise. "Y'don't think I was fooled by Grace's little strategems do you? Gel I've known since she was ten years old? I knew what she and Gussie were up to all along. Had you investigated on the off chance. Some sort o' guardian I'd be if I didn't keep an eye on who my gel's mixin' with."

An hour later he ushered Dominic to the front door. "Come back tomorrow mornin' and you can pop the question to the gel herself."

"I'm so sorry, Dominic."She came to him, glowing and beautiful and dressed in a shade of blue that exactly matched her eyes. Currently very distressed eyes.

"What has upset you, love?"

"I don't know what they said or did to you last night, but whatever it was, you don't have to do this."

"Do what?"

"Marry me."

He frowned. "Dammit, woman, that's my line."

"What?"

He sank down onto one knee and said, "Grace Merridew, will you marry me?"

She was silent for a moment. "Don't, Dominic. I can't bear it."

His grip on her hands tightened. "Marry me, Greystoke."

"Stop it! I know you never wanted this. But much as-"

'This is a very cold floor," he interrupted in a plaintive voice. "Will one of you- Grace or Greystoke-please say you'll marry me so I can get up."

She bit her lip. "Are you sure, Dominic?"

He smiled. "Of course I'm sure." He stood up and pulled her into his arms. "Why else do you think I brought you here? I told you I wasn't going to lose you."

"But you don't believe in marriage."

He smiled wryly. "I didn't, but you do, and if anyone can make me believe, it will be you, my love. Now, for the third time, will you marry me?" "But what about Wolfestone? You'll lose Wolfestone if you marry me." Tears flooded her eyes. "Oh, Dominic, we made all those plans..."

He squeezed her hands. "We'll make new plans."

"I don't want you to lose Wolfestone."

He made a dismissive gesture. "I never had it in the first place, love. You can't miss what you've never had."

"But you need Wolfestone, Dominic. And Wolfestone needs you."

He swore. "What I need, Greyst-Grace, is you, dammit! I don't need a moldering old castle and a run-down estate- the Wolfestone people will survive as they have for six hundred years. Someone else will own the land. With any luck it will be someone good. But it won't be me." His voice softened. "I will be with my love, watching the moon rise over the pyramids, or sailing into Venice at dawn.

"Come now." He leaned forward and took her hands in his and said in a coaxing voice, "You've always wanted to go traveling, haven't you? And I'm the man to take you. I've traveled the world all my life."

Grace was distraught. He'd offered her what she most wanted in life... But it was at the expense of his own dreams, his fragile, newborn dreams. Could she let him do that?

"Of course I'll marry you. I ought to refuse you. You need-"

"I need my silken-skinned girl in whose eyes a man could happily drown. I need the woman who makes my heart pound and my blood sing. I need my beloved girl to tell my heart to, and to hold in my arms through the deep stillness of the night. The girl to gallop with in the crisp dawn air, the girl to hold in the night while outside the storms rage."

Her eyes filled with tears. This was more beautiful than any poem.

He pulled her against him and held her tight. "I'm sorry.I didn't mean to make you weep. You're tired." He kissed her gently.