But he smiled at her. "If things were different, if I could redo my entire life, I would have never left Askeaton four years ago. If I were not a fugitive...I would marry you. Elle, I love you."

Eleanor lost her ability to stand. It wasn't Sean who caught her, it was Tyrell.

"I am going to take you to Cliff," Tyrell said softly. "Rex and Devlin will stay with Sean."

She shook her head, wanting to tell him that she would stay until the very end. She was not leaving Sean's side now.

Hoofbeats thundered.

And Eleanor knew it was Reed and his troops. She staggered upright, turning, Tyrell keeping his arm around her as a dozen soldiers galloped into the front yard, blue coats and white shoulder belts gleaming. The troops halted, Reed at their forefront.

A terrible silence fell, punctuated only by the blowing horses and their jangling bits.

Sean was smiling.

Eleanor could not look away, sick with fear.

He glanced at Devlin. Devlin unsheathed his sword, the same long saber he had worn as a captain in the royal navy, and tossed it to him. Eleanor felt her heart lurch with dread as Sean caught it easily by the hilt. His gaze returned to Reed.

Reed smiled. "A viper's nest-or should I amend my choice of words?" His saber rang as it appeared in his hand.

Sean did not answer. He strode past Eleanor and Tyrell, past Rex, toward Reed.

Reed spurred his mount forward. "An entire nest of Irish traitors," Reed murmured, sounding pleased. "O'Neill, you are under arrest."

"Dismount." Sean spoke softly, so softly his words were almost inaudible; yet somehow, everyone in the yard knew exactly what he wanted.

"Arrest him," Reed said, dancing his horse aside and just out of Sean's reach.

"Coward." Sean's cold smile never wavered.

Reed's smile vanished. He promptly leaped from his horse and he was far too agile. Eleanor's dismay increased.

The two men faced one another like fencing masters, swords poised high to strike. Sean's eyes glittered-and so did Reed's.

"En garde," Reed murmured.

And Sean struck-but Reed parried the blow.

Eleanor knew that all of her brothers were superior swordsmen, but Sean had not held a sword in two years-if not more. He was at a terrible disadvantage. Her heart slammed as she watched the two men swiftly engage. Their swords rang and clashed, blow after blow, stalemated. Sean advanced; Reed retreated. Reed advanced, Sean retreated. The seconds turned into agonizing minutes; Sean's face was gleaming with sweat. Reed's face was as wet, but now both men were fiercely focused and determined. Someone was going to die that day. Their swords clashed and rang again.

Sean feinted and thrust-suddenly the tip of his blade was in Reed's blue jacket, in his shoulder. Sean pulled it back and the tip was bright red with blood.

Grunting, Reed thrust back and their swords braced and locked.

Eleanor began to have hope.

Sean thrust viciously again and in disbelief, Eleanor saw Reed's sword clatter to the ground. Reed froze, as did Sean. And then Sean laid the tip of his blade against Reed's heart. He smiled.

"No!" Eleanor screamed. "Sean, do not!"

Sean visibly stiffened.

"Apprehend him," Reed ordered.

A dozen swords rang. A dozen troops surrounded them and a dozen blades were instantly aimed at Sean's head and body, inches from his flesh.

Eleanor knew it was over. She could feel Sean now, with her, inside her, a part of her very being, and she could read his every thought, feel his every desire. He wanted to kill. He was about to kill. And the troops would slaughter him in return.

A shot rang out.

Sean's sword was blasted out of his hand.

Stunned, Eleanor saw Rex standing in a firing position, his entire weight balanced on his crutch and left leg, a pistol pointing directly at Sean and Reed.

The yard came to life. Even before Reed spoke, Sean was seized by several soldiers.

"Shackle him," Reed spat.

"No!" Eleanor cried.

Sean was dragged toward the milling horses and troops.

Eleanor started to pull away from Tyrell.

"Eleanor!" He gripped her hard, not allowing her to go after Sean.

And she hated him. "Let me go!" she shouted. "Let me say goodbye! Ty, let me go!"

He pulled her close. "No."

"Mount up and move out," Reed snapped, already on his charger. He rode his bay toward them. "I have no quarrel here, especially not with you, Sir Captain-" he looked at Devlin, and then at Rex "-or you, Sir Major." He wheeled the bay, lifting his arm and flagging his troops onward.

Sean was in their midst, astride, his hands manacled in front of him, as the mass of men moved out.

Eleanor fought Tyrell now. She kicked and scratched and he suddenly let her go. "Eleanor, don't."

But she lifted her skirts and ran up to the cavalcade. She ran past one huge horse and another and then darted between the chargers. "Sean! Sean!" She reached his mount's side and seized his leg.

He stared straight ahead as if he could not hear her.

"Sean!"

His jaw was clenched, his temples throbbed. He refused to acknowledge her in any way.

She could no longer keep up with the trotting horses. Her steps slowed. On each side, the horses jogged past her. She stumbled, not caring if she fell and was trampled. The last troops had passed and she stared after them as they disappeared around a bend in the road.

Someone paused beside her; it was Tyrell. "Come, Eleanor, it is time to go home."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

IT WAS POURING HEAVILY when Eleanor arrived at Adare. She had traveled from Cork with Rex, his mount tied to the carriage behind them. She was sick with fear, so much so that she could not breathe properly. Images of Sean being captured by the British haunted her. She would never forget the stoic expression on his face as he had been led away, refusing to look at or even to acknowledge her. By now, he was at Kilraven Hill, imprisoned there.

He had finally admitted that he loved her. There should have been joy in her heart, not such sick despair. She had shredded the fine linen handkerchief one of her brothers had given her. Still clutching it, she looked at Rex, who had been silent for most of their journey, clearly as immersed in his own thoughts as she was. "Reed is a maniac," she suddenly said. "He might think to harm Sean just for amusement-or worse, hang him before there is any word from London."

Rex reached for her. "And that is why Tyrell rode directly to the garrison, to impress upon the colonel that he must await further orders or suffer serious consequences."

"Ty has no idea with whom he is dealing!" Eleanor cried. They had been traveling up the long gravel drive and the house had come into view, stately and gray, the stone walls gleaming silver in the rain. "Reed isn't afraid of him, or Father or anyone else in this family."

"Devlin is with Tyrell." Rex spoke with great calm. His mouth curved into a slight smile. "I cannot imagine any man facing them both without some fear. If Reed has somehow convinced you that he fears no one, I think it was a sham. He is a bully, Eleanor, that much is clear. Bullies are invariably cowards."

And briefly, Eleanor felt the slightest flicker of hope. "He did not seem cowardly to me."

His expression became rigid. "You are a defenseless young woman. He is a bully and a coward and he will inevitably pay for his behavior toward you."

Eleanor knew Rex intended some terrible fate for Reed, but she could not think about that now. Miserably, she stared at the house as their carriage halted. "Maybe we should go to London to find out what Father has managed," she said. "But on the other hand, I do not want to leave Sean. Rex, I have to see him."

Rex reached for her hand and grasped it firmly. "Eleanor, Peter remains at Adare."

He had her full attention now. In some disbelief, she faced him. "Peter is here? Waiting for me?" She was dismayed.

"I am afraid so. I think you must exercise some great control and dissemble now. It will not serve anyone to allow Peter to realize you are madly in love with Sean."

Eleanor was stunned that Peter was in residence, but then, it had not even been a week since their ill-fated wedding day. Her mind tried to grapple with the notion that she was about to face him now. "I can't manage this. Not now, not when I am sick with fear for Sean's very life."

"You have to manage," Rex said firmly. "But he will surely understand that you must go directly to your rooms." He gave her a nod of encouragement.

There would be some respite then, at least until the morrow. But Peter would want an explanation. "I must let him down," she whispered. "And I have no heart left to even attempt an apology or to find some pleasant way to do so."

"I must advise you against being honest with Sinclair. Eleanor, if Sean is not pardoned, you could still be in jeopardy yourself."

Eleanor understood that she was a conspirator to Sean's escape, and Reed and his troops had seen her with Sean when they had apprehended him. "I am a traitor, too. I cannot deny it now and I do not want to! Maybe it is for the best. If Sean hangs, I can hang with him." She meant her every word.

"Don't say that!" Rex cried, turning pale beneath his dark skin. "He is not Romeo and you are not Juliet! I am going to tell you what to do, and for once in your life, you will listen-and obey! You will not explain yourself to anyone, Eleanor, except for Sinclair, and you will tell him the story you told Reed. You missed your stepbrother, and believing in his innocence, you wanted to hear the truth from him. Somehow, in the excitement of the moment, you left Adare with Sean. You did not purposefully aid him in another escape, but once having left with Sean, there was no going back. He abandoned you upon arriving in Cork-and you returned to warn him about Reed after your capture. He is your beloved stepbrother, Eleanor," he said harshly. "Nothing more."

Eleanor hugged herself. "There are a dozen witnesses to the fact that I escaped the garrison and went right to Sean. What sister behaves in such a manner?"

"A sister attempting to warn her brother that a madman is on his trail!" Rex snapped. "Before this is over, marriage to Sinclair might be for the best. It might be your only option."

Eleanor gasped. Then she shook with fury when she realized the stand Rex was taking. "Never! I can't marry him-I love Sean! And in case you did not hear, he loves me."

"I did hear. But it is too late. Sean might hang-but I will be damned if you will spend the rest of your life in the Tower."

She shook her head, tears spilling. "I love Sean. I am his lover! And I am not going to deny it."

Rex appeared furious. "If Sean survives, he is going to have to answer to me for that! So you intend to tell Peter everything? He loves you, Eleanor, and he has been nothing but honorable toward you. He is at Adare even now, sick with fear for you! And you will hurt him with the truth?"

She became still. Peter deserved so much more than she could ever give him. "Of course I will not tell Peter the truth. I have hurt him when he never deserved it and I do not want to add more injury now. But I can't marry him, Rex. I am in love with Sean."

"Even Sean wishes for you to marry Sinclair," Rex said, his dark eyes flashing.

Eleanor turned her back to him, staring out of the carriage with more dismay and sudden fear. Sean had been insisting she marry Peter all along. And he had insisted that she do so in the same breath that he had finally declared his love for her. She glanced at Rex. "In one way, you are right. I will tell Peter what I told Reed, as it is a much kinder version of the events."

Rex sighed. "Eleanor, I am not trying to be harsh or cruel. I am only trying to protect you, in the event that this situation becomes even worse than it currently is."

"I understand that. But why don't we forget about my fate, as it is hardly in the balance now."

"We will discuss this again tomorrow," Rex said, his tone softer, "when Tyrell has returned."

Eleanor had a dreadful feeling then. "Surely you are not thinking of forcing me to the altar when Ty comes back?"

He smiled grimly at her as servants appeared, rushing from the house through the rain, but did not answer.

Horrified, Eleanor realized he was contemplating just such an act. But she had no chance to really press, for her door was opened. The countess stepped from the house to stand above her on the wide stone steps, and then Peter appeared there, as well.

Eleanor stumbled, her heart lurching, as she stepped down from the coach, aided by a footman. Her glance went from her mother, who was pale but smiling wanly, to Peter Sinclair. He was as pale, but he wasn't smiling and his stare was searching. She was briefly overcome with nervous dread.

Peter was a gentleman. As Rex had pointed out, he had done nothing but love, honor and respect her. In that instant, every moment she had spent with Sean in the past few days flashed through her mind's eye, including every act of passion. She felt her cheeks heating as her heart accelerated. "Mother," she whispered, tearing her gaze from Peter's rigid face.

Rex took her arm firmly, and with his crutch, began limping to the stairs. There he let her go, and Eleanor preceded him up to the front doors. She stole another glance at Peter, who could not seem to take his riveted gaze from her. The countess cried out, beginning to fight tears, and Eleanor went into her arms. "I am all right," she said.

"And Sean?" the countess asked, holding her hands, her blue eyes wide and frightened.

Eleanor fought for self-control. "He has been captured, Mother." When the countess started to stagger, she cried, "But he is alive and he isn't hurt!"

Her disclaimer did not matter. The countess swooned but Peter Sinclair caught her. Lifting her into his arms, he glanced at Eleanor. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, filled with guilt.

He quickly carried the countess inside, Eleanor and Rex following. When he laid her on an upholstered bench in the entry hall, her eyes fluttered open. Peter stepped back as Eleanor knelt by her mother's side, taking her cold hands in hers. "Mother?"

The countess met her gaze, her own moist with tears. "Are you truly unharmed?"

Eleanor nodded. "I am dirty and hungry, but otherwise, no worse for wear." And that was the only lie she had ever told her stepmother.

The countess studied her and hesitated. Eleanor knew she had grave doubts about the veracity of that statement. "I have been so frightened for you, and for Sean. Where did they take him?"

"Kilraven Hill," Eleanor told her. She knew her mother had a hundred questions that she wished to ask, but did not dare.

The countess sat up. "Darling, you need to rest. I will order a hot bath drawn and send supper to your rooms. Of course, I will attend to you myself."

Eleanor understood. The countess wished to whisk her away to a safe retreat, and would visit her there. "I do need to rest. I am exhausted," she said. Then, her heart pounding, she slowly stood and turned to face Peter. She became aware that she was trembling, and she felt her face flame.