SARAH SAT on her bed, the contents of a wooden box spread before her. She was sorting through her belongings, deciding what should go, with her when she left Bath with Winston and what could more conveniently be left behind. So far she had not accomplished a great deal. Everything she had with her was useful enough or precious enough to be kept. This box contained the most precious of her possessions, though nothing would have brought a large sum at a sale or a pawn shop. Most of it was jewelry that had been her mother's. It was not expensive; Papa had never had money to lavish on ornaments. But it was invaluable to Sarah-the only mementos she had of her mother.
She sighed and piled everything back inside the box again. She should be going to bed. It was not very late, it was true, but mornings began early in Bath. But she did not feel tired. She had too much to think of. In a few days' time she would be starting a new way of life yet again, one of her own free choosing. She was to be Win's wife, the Viscountess Laing.
Sarah shuddered. She would belong to Win, be his possession. She would have to allow him to touch her and lie with her whenever he wished. It would be like it had been during that nightmare summer of her youth, only worse. There would be no end to this. She would lose all rights to her own life and her own body. And she was entering this marriage of her own free will.
She shivered at the memory of Winston's kiss that morning. Every nerve in her body had shrunk from contact with him. And she had been very quickly reminded of the feeling of nausea that had been a part of the ordeal of being with him.
She knew that a large number of people would consider her fortunate indeed to be betrothed to Winston. Lady Murdoch earlier that afternoon had been ecstatic. She had hugged and kissed Sarah several times and sung both her praises and Winston's. She had found the time between her return home from shopping and her departure for the assembly rooms endless. She longed to be able to break the news to Lady Cavendish.
And then during the evening, with a smiling and charming Win at her side, her arm linked through his, Sarah had received the congratulations of almost all the acquaintances she had made in Bath. Lady Cavendish had been delighted. It had been painful for Sarah to await the reactions of George and Fanny, but she had held her head high. She wished no one but herself to know the misery, even horror, she was feeling. Hannah was the first person after Lady Cavendish to speak to her. She had even hugged Sarah, her color heightened.
"I am very pleased for you,Miss Fifield," she had said. "I am sure you will be very happy. But I could near die of mortification when I recall how I spoke to you of Lord Laing in Sydney Gardens. I really had no idea that he was your beau. Please forgive me. And I am very sorry that you are planning to leave before we do. Perhaps it will be a long time before we meet again."
And she had turned to Win, smiled shyly, and held out a hand to him. "I do wish you happy, Lord Laing. I know you are fortunate to have Miss Fifeld for a bride."
Fanny had been flushed and bright-eyed when she approached the couple. She was with Captain Penny. Sarah had not really been able to tell from her manner if she was severely disappointed at Winston's defection or merely somewhat embarrassed. But she had given Sarah a hard look as the captain was talking to Winston.
"I wish there had been more time to get to know you, Miss Fifield," she had said. "I must confess you intrigue me."
They were words that still rang in Sarah's mind. She did not know if they should be taken at their face value or if the girl had been somehow insulting her.
George had come to speak to them, though Sarah had not expected him to do so. He had been unsmiling, his face a blank mask. It was impossible to tell what his reaction to their announcement had been. But he had behaved with perfect propriety, shaking hands with Winston and taking her hand in his and carrying it to his lips for the most fleeting of moments. He had wished them well.
Winston had loved every moment of the evening. He had basked in the attention that was directed his way. He had danced with Sarah twice and had watched her throughout with possessive eyes and with almost open desire. He had danced with Hannah and with Fanny and with several other ladies, all of whom had appeared thoroughly flattered by the attention. The consensus seemed to be that Sarah was the most fortunate lady in the company.
Lady Murdoch had been disappointed to know that they planned to leave Bath within a few days and to marry as soon as possible. She had hoped to stay for their full term, enjoying the social pleasures of the city. She openly admitted that she wished to enjoy her new status as adopted mother of the prospective bride. She had hoped they would marry from her home in Devonshire. Winston had answered her protests. He must take, Sarah to see his stepmother, he had said. She must be informed of the coming event, which had always been the dearest wish of her heart. The marriage must take place at his home. Lady Murdoch had melted at the love and concern "dear Lord Laing" showed for his stepmother.
It allseemed very unreal. Despite the events of the day, Sarah could not quite believe that in two days' time she would be leaving, probably to go home, and that a few days after that she would be marrying Winston. A week from now the deed would probably be accomplished, she told herself. There would be no going back. Of course, there was no withdrawing now, either. Her promise was given; the matter had been made very public. And, more important, there was her promise to George and her commitment to protect Fanny from an amoral fortune hunter.
Sarah prepared to get into bed. She looked at the sheets and blankets neatly folded back. And she shuddered again. Within a week even the privacy to climb alone into a bed at night would be denied her. She wondered how long Winston would remain faithful to her. He undoubtedly felt a real passion for her. It had lasted for many years; perhaps it would last as many more. But the time would inevitably come when he would turn elsewhere for gratification of his appetites. She must hope that once he knew he could have her whenever he wanted, his desire for her would wane. It was a horrifying realization to know that one was not even married yet but already looking forward eagerly to the time when one's husband would turn his attention to mistresses.
It seemed very likely that when she was married, her true identity as the divorced wife of the Duke of Cranwell would become public. And doubtless there would be a fresh scandal. She would be ostracized, gossiped about. But she was past caring about such matters. The misery and degradation of being married to Winston would outweigh any embarrassment that public censure could bring her.
Sarah snuffed the candles and climbed into the high bed. She pulled the blankets up over her ears and curled up on her side. The silk sheets felt cold to her chilled flesh. She closed her eyes, and the unsmiling, aristocratic, sensitive face of the Duke of Cranwell was there before her. George. She should not think of him. She must not think of him.
She could feel his arms around her, his body pressed to hers, his mouth an hers. So very right. Her husband's embrace. Her body responded again as it had the evening before in Sydney Gardens. She ached again, as she had then, for a deeper intimacy, not only for the touch of his flesh against her own but also for the sound of his voice speaking words of love, binding her to him in a bond closer than the merely physical. There was an ache in her throat, the prelude to tears. Of course, she would never hear those words, never feel that touch, never even see him again after two more days.
He had loved her once. He had said that himself. Once. Not now. Not ever again. And she had done everything in her power from their wedding night on to set the distance between them wider and wider. He clearly believed what she had set out to convince him of, that she was beyond redemption. He had begged her to use his money to set herself up in a respectable way of life. And she had laughed at him. She had asked for and received an exorbitant sum of money, and then she had led him to believe that she would spend that money to lure more men. She really did not know how he felt about her impending marriage to Win.
Her own mind swept back to that marriage. She suddenly realized the appalling reality of what she was doing. She hated Win. It would be hard to imagine a more satanic man-a man who could appear such an angel in looks and disposition, but one who was capable of achieving anything he wanted by the most ruthless methods. He had won her submission in the cruelest manner possible, using a handicapped child as a weapon.
And she still was not free of him. In fact, she was more surely in his clutches now than she had ever been. She was to be his wife. His wife! Sarah burrowed further under the bedclothes as if by doing so she might block the realization from her mind. And how had it come about? Had she been wholly free to make her decision? Or had he somehow maneuvered matters? He had an uncanny ability to know her weaknesses. How could he have known so surely that Fanny Montagu's future was important to her? How could he have known that she would run away with him rather than see him marry Fanny? She had not known it herself. Was it perhaps that she was willing, even eager, to do something dramatic to atone for the suffering she had caused George? Even though no one but her would ever know? Strange! Win must have known too that she would not go to George telling tales. He must know her better than she knew herself.
And it was no longer the much-loved body of George that she could feel against hers, but Winston's, tall and strong, crushing the life out of her. She could feel his wet mouth open over hers. She shuddered and pulled the blankets over her head.
The Duke of Cranwell and Joshua Stonewall were standing together in the Pump Room the following morning, having withdrawn a little from the cluster of ladies gathered around the seated figure of Lady Murdoch.
"You really are the life-saver, Cran," Joshua was assuring his friend. "Bath would be dashed boring if I had to stay here much longer. Each year there seem to be fewer people of any interest. And I have always had a hankering to see Montagu Hall. It is reputed to be one of the more impressive homes in the south."
"It is to be mainly a family affair," Cranwell said, "but I decided to ask you to come too, Josh. It has been good to discover you again. We should not have let our friendship lapse."
"If you were not such an infernal hermit, we would not have done so," Joshua said. "What do you think of this betrothal, Cran?"
"Miss Fifield's?" Cranwell asked. "Why? What is there to think? They make a handsome couple."
"I find it deuced depressing," Joshua said, singling that lady out of the group with his eyes and regarding her gloomily. "I was just working m'self up to begin a major campaign on in' own behalf. Delectable lady, Cran"
"Beautiful, yes," Cranwell agreed.
"Ah, that hair!" his friend sighed. "But more than that, Cran. There is something about her. Character. She is no piece of tinsel."
Cranwell did not answer but absently watched as Winston Bowen, who had joined the ladies a few minutes before, began to stroll around the room, Fanny on one arm and Hannah on the other.
"I think I shall persuade the lady to walk with me," Joshua said. "It may be my last chance. Excuse me, Cran."
Cranwell watched as Joshua talked with the older ladies for a minute or two and then bowed to Sarah and began to walk with her. Character! If Josh only knew. The man was dazzled merely by her beauty and made the assumption that there must be character behind it. And she was beautiful. The pale cream of her gown this morning and the brown-trimmed straw bonnet threw her hair into vivid relief. Yes, she was surely the loveliest woman he had ever known.
He was still in shock from the evening before. She was to marry Bowen. The fact hammered at his consciousness as it had since Lady Murdoch had loudly made the announcement of their betrothal in the tearoom of the assembly rooms. They were to leave together within the next day or two and marry almost immediately. Had that been in her plans all along? he wondered. Was that why she had wanted the money? Was it important to her that she bring some sort of dowry to the marriage? He did not see why. Viscount Laing was prosperous enough, as far as he knew.
Or had she been taken by surprise? Had Bowen asked her to marry him after she had made her decision to leave? Perhaps he had proposed only because he knew she was leaving and wished to offer her his protection. He had already made it plain to Cranwell that he felt a deep affection for his cousin. It seemed quite likely that he was marrying her to protect her from herself. It certainly seemed to have been a sudden decision. Bowen had appeared to be interested in Fanny.
Cranwell watched him again from across the room, his head bent to one side, listening to something Fanny was saying. He had to admire the man, but it seemed to be just too much of a sacrifice to give up one's own freedom for the rest of one's life merely for the sake of saving someone else. What was most admirable, perhaps, was the fact that one would not know from looking at Bowen that he was sacrificing his own happiness. He had the gift of cheerfulness as well as charm.
Of course, perhaps he really had a fondness for Sarah strong enough to compensate somewhat for the sacrifice. But could it compensate entirely for the knowledge he would always have of the type of wife he had married? He would never be able to trust her. Cranwell wondered what her aunt would think of the match.
And what did he himself think of the marriage? How did he feel about Winston Bowen marrying Sarah, living with her, making love to her? How did it feel to know that someone else would possess his wife? But of course, an unknown number of equally unknown men had already done.so.
"Your grace?"
Cranwell came to himself with a start and realized that it was the second time Lady Cavendish had called him. He walked over to where she was standing straight-backed beside the seated figure of her friend.
"I have been telling Adelaide about what we talked of this morning," she said, "and she has accepted. As I pointed out to you earlier, your grace, she will be alone again once Miss Fifield leaves for the viscount's home. And what is there to enjoy in Bath when one is alone? And why go home alone when one has a chance to join a house party?"
Cranwell bowed in the direction of Lady Murdoch. "I am delighted, ma'am," he said, "that you have agreed to visit Montagu Hall. I know that Lady Cavendish will be very happy to have your company, as will my sister and L"
"It is a place I have always wished to see," Lady Murdoch declared loudly, "especially since the Wither-smiths visited last year and came home so full of its praises. But of course, your grace, it will be so much more impressive to visit as your guest. I am quite overwhelmed and quite speechless. My only disappointment is that this comes at a time when dear Sarah is leaving me for a while. I would have loved nothing more than to bring her to visit you too, for she has had very little pleasure in her life. Living in a drab little cottage she was when I found her, with no one for company except a single servant. However, of course, now, she has a wonderful future ahead with Lord Laing. Such a handsome couple! But I wish this house party might have come first, Bertha."
"Nothing is written in stone, you know," Lady Cavendish said sagely. "Perhaps for such an occasion, Adelaide, both Miss Fifield and Lord Laing would postpone their nuptials and join the party. I am sure his grace would be only too delighted to have them as guests." She looked inquiringly at a dismayed Cranwell.
He bowed. "I certainly regret that Miss Fifield will not be with you, ma'am," he said to Lady Murdoch. "But I understand that Lord Laing is anxious to take her home to visit his stepmother as soon as possible. It would be selfish of me to try to persuade him to change his mind."
Lady Murdoch was sitting forward in her chair, a look of eager excitement on her face. "But it may be possible for them to do both," she said. "I have already thought that instead of sending a maid with Sarah during the journey, perhaps I should go myself. A maid is hardly chaperone enough. And besides, I think it only fitting that I meet the aunt with whom my Sarah spent much of her youth. Now, if I go with them, then we could all come along to Montagu Hall next week."
Cranwell stood speechless, his hands clasped behind his back. He had that feeling of being out of control again. There must be all sorts of decisive things he could say at this moment that would squash forever the plan that was being formed by the two elderly ladies. There must be. But he could not think of one of them. He could almost have panicked had he not remembered that neither Sarah nor Bowen was likely to give the suggestion even a moment's consideration.
"Here is Lord Laing quite close now with the your dear girls," Lady Murdoch was saying. "Yoo-hoo! Lord Laing!"
Winston smiled and bowed to the lady on each side of him. "Thank you for the pleasure," he said to them. "I must have been the envy of every gentleman in the room." He turned and smiled at Lady Murdoch. "I may be of service to you, ma'am?"
"The most wonderful thing, Lord Laing," she said. "His grace has most generously invited you and dear Sarah to Montagu Hall next week to help his family and Lady Hannah's celebrate their betrothal. I have been invited too. Now, I know what your objection will be, for you young people afe ever impatient to put your plans into effect. You are impatient to take Sarah to your dear stepmother, and that is as it should be. But you can do that and still go to Montagu Hall next week. It will mean putting off your own nuptials for perhaps another week, but it will give us all a splendid opportunity to celebrate your betrothal too. And you would certainly be doing me a favor, for I feel I must accompany you to your home as a chaperone for dear Sarah, you see, and I shall need company in my journey to his grace's home."
Winston continued to smile throughout this long speech. He looked across at Cranwell and bowed. "This is most generous of you, your grace," he said. "And it is very difficult to disappoint other people's plans, even though my own impatience to make Miss Fifield my wife is a strong inducement."
"Oh," Hannah cried, her face aglow; "what a marvelous idea. Lord Laing, will you come? And persuade Miss Fifield to come too? I should love it of all things."
Fanny darted a look at her brother, and a look of sheer devilment came into her eyes. "George wishes it. Hannah wishes it. And clearly Lady Murdoch and Lady Cavendish wish it. Lord Laing, you must come. I shall help you persuade Miss Fifield."
Winston laughed and looked around at the group, his eyes dancing. "It seems I have little choice," he said. "I do not know quite how I am to break the news to my betrothed that the date of our wedding may have to be postponed for a few days, but I am sure that the occasion merits such a delay. I shall see what I can do with Sarah."
Lady Murdoch chuckled. "You are the person to persuade her, Lord Laing," she said. "What female could resist your persuasions, especially when she became betrothed to you less than a day ago?"
He bowed and turned, as they all did, to watch Sarah and Joshua Stonewall slowly strolling toward them along the length of the long windows that lined one side of the room. They were deep in conversation, apparently unaware of the attention focused on them.
Sarah looked up as she and Mr. Stonewall approached again the place where she had left Lady Murdoch. She had been very aware earlier of George standing a little apart from the group. She wondered if he was still there. To her embarrassment, her eyes met his immediately, but before she could look hastily away, she became aware that the whole group appeared to be watching her.
"I had no idea that life in the capital could be so full of intrigue," she said in response to what Mr. Stonewall had been saying. "It looks, sir, as if everyone is waiting for us. It must be time for breakfast."
“Pon my word, ma'am," Joshua said, "if it is, your company has certainly made time fly past."
"Sarah dear," Lady Murdoch called shrilly without waiting for the pair to reach her, "Lord Laing has something to say to you. And you must consider carefully, dear. Do not say no without even giving the matter thought, though I know your first reaction will be to say no. But think what it will mean to his grace and Lady Hannah. And think what pleasure you will be giving me, dear. Surely putting off your wedding for a few days will be a small price to pay for such a favor. Not that it will be all a favor to others. I am sure you will enjoy yourself immensely once you have had a chance to think about the matter."
Sarah stared blankly at her Cousin Adelaide and then looked inquiringly at Winston. He smiled and reached for her hand.
"His grace has arranged a house party at Montagu Hall for next week," he said. "To celebrate his betrothal. It is to be mainly a family affair, but he has been gracious enough to invite you and Lady Murdoch, and me in my new role as your betrothed. I have provisionally accepted, my love."
Sarah felt that she must have stepped into some dream. "You have what?" she asked blankly.
"Lady Murdoch had already accepted the invitation," Winston said gently, smiling into her eyes. "And she had also kindly agreed to accompany us to my home in two days' time. It would seem only fair, Sarah, to go with her to Montagu Hall next week. The holiday will give us a chance to celebrate our own betrothal amongst our new friends. And our wedding need be delayed by only a week. We have a lifetime ahead of us; surely a few days will not be the end of the world."
Sarah glanced hastily at Cranwell. He was looking steadily and coldly back at her.
"It will be impossible, Win," she said, "much as I appreciate the kindness of the invitation. There will be much to do in preparation for our wedding, and I am sure Aunt Myrtle will wish to help me with my trousseau. We really will have to say no."
"We all have our hearts set on your being there," Fanny said. "I have been looking forward to showing you Montagu Hall, Miss Fifield. I know you will love it. Do please say yes."
Fanny's eyes, Sarah saw, when she glanced at her in dismay, were twinkling with merriment. That girl definitely had the devil in her.
"I think I can understand how you feel, Miss Fifield," Hannah said more quietly. "It is hard to change plans once your heart is set on something. But I too wish you would reconsider. Both you and Lord Laing would add something to our party. I would like you to meet Argun. His grace has sent for him. He will come, I expect, with Mama and Papa."
Winston squeezed Sarah's hand, which he had linked through his arm, and grinned down at her. "It seems we have no choice, my love," he said. "How can we be selfish enough to disappoint so many people?"
Sarah opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. What was there to be said? Any more denials under the present circumstances would be offensive. She darted another look at Cranwell. His position and expression had not changed. But his face was almost as pale as his shirt. He said nothing.
Sarah smiled warmly around at the group. "I firmly believe that there is some conspiracy afoot here," she said. "I do thank you most warmly, your grace, for your invitation. But it is so sudden. Perhaps Win and I can talk it over together today and give you our answer later?" She beamed at Cranwell.
He bowed stiffly. "Certainly. I understand, ma'am," he said.
Fanny clapped her hands. "I know that our case has been won," she said. "When people say that they will see, they invariably mean yes. Lord Laing, you just wait until you see the forests and hills that we ride in. One may ride all day and never cross the same trail twice or leave George's land."
"I shall look forward to having such a charming guide," Winston said.
"I say, Cran," Joshua said, "you are making this house-party business sound more and more interesting by the minute."
Lady Cavendish announced at that moment that it was breakfasttime and that, speaking for herself, she was ravenously hungry. The members of the group began to go their separate ways, having agreed to meet again in the evening at the Lower Rooms to take tea.
Winston went back to Brock Street to breakfast with the ladies and to accompany them on a shopping trip afterward. Lady Murdoch was not in the mood for walking a great distance. When they entered a bookseller's shop, she was quite content to sit with some newspapers and to keep her eyes open for acquaintances with whom to exchange gossip. There were still several people who had not been at the rooms the previous evening to be told of the betrothal.
Sarah made an excuse to take Winston away from the shop, having promised to be back to accompany Lady Murdoch home in one hour's time. She took his arm determinedly as soon as they were out of the shop.
"Now, Sarah," he said pleasantly, "where is it you wish to go? To a milliner's? to a haberdasher's?"
"I want to walk," she said, "as far away from crowds as we can, Win. We have something to discuss."
"You are not referring to this Montagu Hall business, are you?" he asked in some surprise. "I thought that was all settled."
"It is by no means settled," she said. "You know that our going there is absolutely out of the question, Win."
"Why is that?" he asked. "Are you so anxious for our wedding, love? We need delay for only a few days, you know. In fact, I am sure that once we get home and to Montagu Hall, we can quite easily arrange to anticipate the wedding somewhat. Will that please you? I am every bit as impatient as you on that matter, you know."
"That is not what I am talking about," she said crossly, "and you know it, Win. I cannot go to George's home. Can you not see how out of the question it is? His home, Win! I am his divorced wife."
He grinned. "I can imagine it might be a little sickening to see what you have missed," he said. "I have heard that the Hall is quite magnificent. But don't let it worry you, Sarah. Remember that Cranwell came with the house. Would the house have been worth the sacrifice?"
"You do not get the point at all, do you?" Sarah said, looking up at him incredulously. "Do you not see what a terribly embarrassing predicament we would be putting his grace in? Not to mention me."
"Yet he is the one who issued the invitation," Winston said.
"Oh, bosh!" she replied. "He had as much freedom of choice this morning as I had. Of course he does not wish us to go. Nothing could be farther from his mind."
"Well, I say we go," he said.
"Win," she said, "it is impossible. The matter is not even open for discussion. Do you realize how I got that money? Do you think his grace made me a gift of it out of the kindness of his heart? I made an agreement with him. The money in exchange for my disappearance from his life."
Winston stopped walking and faced her on the pavement. He was grinning broadly. His eyes were positively dancing with merriment. "No!" he said. "I always knew the man was insufferably high in the instep, Sarah, but I did not dream he could be such a dry old stick. Does he find it so hard to face the memory of the big mistake he made? He really is not too intelligent, though, is he? Why would he part with the money when you are still here? What is to say that you will keep the bargain?"
"My word," she said, glaring at him.
He laughed again, took her arm, and resumed their walk through some of the quieter residential streets of the city. "Sarah, Sarah," he said, "sometimes you talk as if you were still a schoolgirl. Such high ideals, my love. We will torment him, that is what we will do. We will go to his house party and you must flirt with him and with that Stonewall fellow who fancies you, and I shall flirt with that sprightly sister of his and the little mouse of a fiancee. We will drive him mad."
"We will do nothing of the kind, Win," Sarah said, fury bringing a deep flush to her cheeks. "We will do as we planned yesterday, or I shall take the money and return it to his grace. I shall tell the whole truth to Lady Murdoch, and she will take me back to Devonshire. Then I shall be able to keep my promise."
"What money?" Winston asked innocently.
"The bank draft," she said.
"Your signature was on it, love," Winston said, bending his head close to hers so that the brim of his hat touched the poke of her bonnet.
Sarah stopped and jerked her arm away from his. "What have you done?" she asked, horror in her eyes. "Have you cashed the draft already?"
"But I thought that was the idea," he said, smiling more gently, almost apologetically at her. "Did you not intend that I pay my debts here, Sarah? They are paid. The rest of the money is safe. Do not worry."
"Give it back to me, Win," Sarah said, but she felt a sinking feeling inside. "I shall return what is left."
"Come, Sarah," he said. His smile was now warm and tender. "I am to be your husband very soon. You will be completely under my protection. I shall manage our money. You need not worry. I shall always look after you."
She stared at him numbly. "It seems that the Duke of Cranwell and I are a pair of fools," she said.
He raised his eyebrows. "Are you afraid that I will cheat you, Sarah?" he asked. "Why will you always believe the worst of me? I have always remained loyal to you, have I not? Even through the years when you refused to have anything to do with me."
"You have always been at the root of my troubles, Win," Sarah said bitterly. "If it were not for you my marriage would have worked. If it were not for you, I could have kept my independence. But as soon as Uncle Randolph died, you took the money I had entrusted to his care and used it to pay your gambling debts. You swore you would repay it, but I knew the truth of the matter. You took all I had. And now I have a chance again to do something at least half-decent and leave alone a man I have wronged. And yet again you have stolen the money."
"Harsh words, Sarah," he said. "Are we not getting somewhat carried away here? All we are talking about is postponing our wedding for a week while we attend this house party to please other people. I am not crying off, you know. And this business of flirting was not a serious suggestion. Sometimes I like to joke. You should have some sense of humor, Sarah."
"I will not go," Sarah said. "I will stay with Aunt Myrtle next week."
"Then I must go alone," Winston said, the old grin back on his face. "I find the prospect of those rides with Fanny quite irresistible. Quiet hills and woods, Sarah."
Her hand tightened on his arm. Fury had clenched her jaw by the time she turned to him. "That is blackmail, Win," she said through her teeth. "Blackmail pure and simple. Do you think I would let you go alone to torment that poor innocent young girl?"
His eyes widened and he grinned deliberately down at her mouth. "No," he said, "I did not think for a moment that you would allow it, Sarah. You will have to come to protect what is your own, will you not?"
She nodded, still almost rigid with fury. "Oh yes," she said, "I will come, Win. You always get your way, do you no
Winston glanced hastily around to make sure that the street was deserted. Then he bent and kissed her indignant lips.
"I like having my way with you, Sarah," he said. "And do not try to pretend that you do not like it too. On second thought, though, keep on pretending, love. You are quite irresistibly adorable when you are angry.”