Angry, perhaps. And trapped. And most of all, responsible. He would not callously abandon a woman who was carrying his child. He had said he had no intention of marrying Lady Ashton…he wanted to marry for love. That dream was impossible now. Julia was almost, almost tempted to pity him, but there was no denying that the situation was of his own making. He and this calculating woman would make a handsome pair, both of them dark and exotic, both possessing an apparently ruthless drive to obtain what they wanted.

Well, Lord Savage would have to deal with the circumstances he had created…and Julia would make doubly certain that she stayed far away from him. Let him and Lady Ashton resolve their own problems…she had her own life to attend to.

To Julia's relief, Madame Lefevrbre's pleasantly chattering voice intruded on her thoughts, bidding her to come to the back of the shop for her fitting now. She stood and forced herself to smile faintly at Lady Ashton. “Good day,” she murmured. “I wish you well.” The other woman nodded, evidently satisfied with her morning's accomplishments.

Having recently received a letter from her mother, Eva, Julia knew exactly when her father would be absent from Hargate Hall. He often went to London to attend club gatherings or meet with his financial advisers. Julia managed to visit her mother every month or two, seldom missing an opportunity to make the hour-long carriage drive to her family's home. She was never certain what Eva's condition would be—her health was uneven, sometimes fair, sometimes poor.

Today Julia was gratified to find her mother sitting up in her private receiving room with a light embroidered blanket across her knees. Eva's complexion was brighter than usual, her expression serene. A basket filled with half-finished needlework rested on the floor near her feet. Eva reached out her arms in welcome, and Julia rushed to embrace her.

“You take my breath away,” Eva exclaimed, laughing at Julia's hard squeeze. “My goodness…it seems that something has happened since the last time you came.”

“I've brought a present for you.”

Opening her drawstring reticule, Julia removed the small jewelry pouch and let the glittering ruby pin fall into her palm. “It was a gift from an admirer,” she said casually. “I've decided it will suit you far better than me.” She couldn't keep the piece, much as she loved it. She wanted to dispose of all reminders of Lord Savage.

“Oh, Julia…” Eva exclaimed softly at the sight of the jeweled bouquet.

“Try it on,” Julia urged, pinning the brooch to the white ruffles at her mother's throat. “There…now you'll always have roses with you, no matter what the season.”

“I shouldn't accept this from you,” Eva said, reaching up to touch the delicate pin. “It's much too valuable—and if your father should see—”

“He never notices such things. And if he does, tell him it was left to you by a recently departed friend.” Julia smiled brightly into her mother's worried face. “Don't refuse my gift, Mama. It suits you perfectly.”

“Very well,” Eva said, her expression smoothing out, and she leaned over to kiss her daughter. “You must tell me about this admirer of yours. Is he the reason you seem so animated? Or is it that Mr. Scott has given you the role you desired in his new play?”

“Neither of those things.” Julia stared at her steadily, feeling her cheeks turn pink. “I…I've met him, Mama.”

Eva stared at her uncomprehendingly…and slowly the realization dawned. There was no need to ask who “he” was. Her lips moved soundlessly. “How?” she finally asked in a whisper.

“Purely by chance. I was at a weekend party. I heard his name and turned around, and there he was. He doesn't know who I am. I couldn't tell him.”

Eva shook her head slowly. A visible pulse fluttered at her fine-skinned temple. “Oh, Julia,” she breathed, her voice thin and bemused.

“He invited me to dinner,” Julia continued, finding it an indescribable relief to tell someone what had happened. “Actually, ‘coerced’ is a better word. He promised Mr. Scott a large donation to the theater in exchange for my company, and so I agreed.”

“You dined with Lord Savage?”

Julia nodded jerkily. “Yes, at his London estate, a week ago.”

“And you never told him…” Eva's voice drifted into silence.

“No, I couldn't. And he doesn't suspect a thing. To him I'm merely an actress he's taken an interest in.” She gripped her mother's slender hands more tightly. “He claims to be a bachelor. It appears that he refuses to acknowledge the marriage.”

Inexplicably, a guilty look came over Eva's face. “What do you think of him, Julia? Do you find him appealing?”

“Well, I…” Uneasily Julia pulled her hands away and toyed with a fold of her skirts, pleating the soft aqua muslin with her fingers. “I suppose anyone would say that he's handsome. And he certainly is a fascinating man.” A reluctant smile came to her lips. “We have many of the same flaws, I think. He's guarded and untrusting, and he seems determined to control every aspect of his life, so that no one can do to him what his father did all those years ago.” She shook her head and laughed shortly. “It's no surprise that he never wanted to find me! I doubt he ever gives a thought to Julia Hargate, except to hope that I've somehow disappeared from the face of the earth.”

“That's not true, Julia.” Eva sighed and looked away, seeming to cringe in discomfort at what she was about to reveal. “Three years ago Lord Savage came to Hargate Hall, demanding to know where you were. We told him nothing, of course, except to say that you were abroad and unreachable. Ever since then we have received occasional visits from people in his employ, making new inquiries about you. Lord Savage has most definitely been trying to find you.”

Julia stared at her in bewilderment. “Why…why wasn't I told that he was looking for me?”

“I didn't believe you were ready to face Lord Savage. I wanted the choice to be yours. If you had ever desired to meet him, you could have gone to him of your own volition. And your father didn't want Savage to find you, for fear that you would act impetuously, and lose the title and position he had gained for you.”

Julia made a sound of frustration and leaped to her feet. “Will the two of you ever tire of manipulating me? I should have been told! I didn't know that Savage wanted to see me!”

“Would it have made a difference?” her mother asked softly. “Would you have wanted to see him then?”

“I don't know. But I should have had the choice!”

“You've always had a choice,” Eva pointed out. “You could have met him long ago, but you chose to avoid him. Just the other night you had the opportunity to tell him who you were, and you chose to keep silent. How can I tell what it is you want, my dear, when even you don't know?”

Julia paced wildly around the room. “I want to be free of him! My marriage to Savage should have been dismissed a long time ago. I'm positive he wants it to end as much as I do, especially after what Lady Ashton told me.”

“Who is Lady Ashton? Why do you mention her?”

“She's his mistress,” Julia said sourly. “And she claims to be pregnant with his child.”

“Pregnant,” Eva repeated in shock, although she usually shrank from such indelicate words. “Oh…what a terrible complication.”

“Not at all. The situation is very simple. I'm going to end all ties with Lord Savage.”

“Julia, I beg you not to act rashly.”

“Rashly? It's taken me years to make this decision. I don't think anyone would claim I've rushed into anything.”

“You've spent so much time avoiding the consequences of your past…avoiding him,” Eva said earnestly. “You must face your husband at last and tell him the truth, and deal with the situation together—”

“He's not my husband. I've never accepted him as such. That so-called marriage was nothing but a sham. I can easily find a lawyer to confirm its validity and notify Lord Savage.”

“And what then? Will it be like this for the rest of our lives? Must I see you in secret for the rest of my days? Will you never try to make peace with your father, and bring yourself to forgive him?”

The mention of her father made Julia's jaw harden. “He doesn't want my forgiveness.”

“Even so, you must give it to him, not for his sake but your own.” Eva's eyes were filled with love and pleading. “You're not a rebellious girl any longer, Julia. You're an independent woman with a strong spirit—much stronger than my own. However, you mustn't lose the gentle part of your nature, the part that is tender and compassionate. If you nurture this bitterness in yourself, I'm afraid of what will become of you. In spite of everything, I still have the same dreams for you that every mother has for her daughter, to have your own husband and home and family—”

“I won't have that with Lord Savage,” Julia said stubbornly.

“Will you at least talk to him?”

“I can't—” Julia began, but she was interrupted by a hesitant knock at the door. It was Polly, a housemaid who had been in the Hargates' employ for almost twenty years. She was a humorless but kind woman with a small, owlish face. Julia had always liked her for her utter devotion to Eva.

“Ma'am,” Polly murmured to Eva, “there is a visitor asking to see Lord Hargate. I told him the master wasn't at home…and then he asked for you.”

Eva looked perturbed. She rarely received impromptu visits because of her poor health. “I don't want to interrupt my time with my daughter,” she said. “Please ask him to call later.”

“Yes, ma'am, but…it's Lord Savage.”

“Lord Savage is in the entrance hall?” Julia asked numbly. At the housemaid's nod, she uttered a string of curses that caused the other women to stare at her in astonishment. “He mustn't know I'm here,” she said, striding toward the adjoining room, another sitting area in Eva's private suite. “Mama, have him brought up here and find out what he wants…but don't tell him anything about me.”

“What will you do?” Eva asked, clearly bewildered.

“I'm going to hide nearby. Please, Mama, don't say anything to him…I can't make any decisions now.” Julia blew her a kiss before disappearing into the next room.

Damon had set foot on the Hargate estate only twice in his life before now. The first time had been on the day of his wedding, when he was seven. The second was three years ago, when he had first approached the Hargates about their daughter's whereabouts. He had found Lady Hargate to be a quiet and pale woman, subdued in voice and appearance. Predictably, Lord Hargate was a cold man, the kind who considered himself superior to everyone he encountered. Since that day Damon had often wondered which one Julia Hargate favored more, her timid mother or her overbearing father. Neither possibility was appealing.

Damon waited patiently in the entrance hall. The interior of the house was luxurious, intimidating, almost churchlike, with its intricately vaulted ceilings and the smell of polished wood. What had it been like for a little girl to grow up in such surroundings? Had Julia Hargate filled the halls with boisterous shrieks and sent her childish voice echoing up to the lofty ceilings? Or had she played quietly in some private corner, lost in her own imaginings? His own childhood, with all its faults and uncertainties, was infinitely preferable to this.

Where was Julia now? Where would she escape to after being brought up in a place like this? Escape…Briefly he thought of Jessica Wentworth on the night they had met at the weekend party, and what she had said to him. I've never met a person who is comfortable with his or her past. There is always something we would like to change, or forget—

The housemaid returned and interrupted his thoughts. “Lady Hargate will see you, my lord. But not for long, if you please, sir, as her health is delicate.”

“I understand.”

The housemaid led him from the entrance hall to the upstairs, along thickly carpeted hallways and endless stretches of carved woodwork. Damon wasn't certain what he would say to Lady Hargate. He would have preferred to meet with Julia's father, and do whatever was necessary to force him to reveal his daughter's whereabouts. Unfortunately it wasn't possible to threaten or browbeat a sickly woman.

A mother with poor health…it occurred to Damon that this was another similarity he and Julia Hargate shared. Years ago his own mother had died of consumption, her body pitifully frail and her mind occupied with constant worry over the fate of her family. How unjust it had been for a woman who craved stability to be married to a gambler. If only Damon had been able to protect her from his father, and give her the peace and security she had deserved. The awareness that he had failed his mother would haunt him all his life.

He wouldn't abandon Julia Hargate and have her on his conscience as well. His own sense of honor demanded that he help her in any way possible.

He owed a responsibility to Pauline as well, but there was a difference between the two situations. Julia was a victim of circumstances she had been helpless to control. Pauline, on the other hand, was doing her best to manipulate him, and there was no doubt that her pregnancy was anything but an accident.

Entering a receiving room decorated in pale pink and salmon, he saw Lady Hargate seated in a large chair. There was something oddly familiar in her unyielding poise as she held herself upright and straight-backed, in the way she extended her hand to him as she remained sitting. She seemed exactly as he remembered, like a bird that infinitely preferred the shelter of its luxurious cage to the beckoning world outside. Once, she must have been a lovely woman.

Damon kissed her thin hand respectfully.

“You may sit beside me,” she said, and he obeyed at once.

“Lady Hargate, I apologize for the inconvenience of my call—”

“It is a welcome pleasure to see you,” she interrupted gently, “as well as an overdue one. Tell me, how is your family?”

“My brother William is well. Unfortunately my father has had a series of brain hemorrhages which have left him very weak.”

“I am sorry.” Her voice was filled with sincerity.

Damon was silent for a moment, debating on how to proceed. He didn't want to make small talk, and from the way she was looking at him, it was clear that she expected him to bring up the subject of Julia. “Have you heard from your daughter?” he asked abruptly. “You must have had some news of her. It's been three years.”