“And now you want to adopt them both, and have them move in with us in France, is that it? Ah, Liane, sweet child, you have a soft heart. The world is full of people like that. They lead nightmarish, ugly lives.”

“But he's a nice man. He doesn't deserve that.”

“Probably not. Anyway, don't you feel too sorry for him. He can take care of himself, and you have other things to think about.” Armand knew how women were, sometimes too much sympathy could create situations one could regret, and he wanted to protect Liane from that. She was still innocent in some ways, and he knew he had to protect her from herself. “What are you wearing to the gala tonight?”

“I don't know … I … oh, Armand, how can you talk about something like that?”

“What would you have me do? Offer to go over there and shoot his wife?”

“No.” She laughed at him. “But still, the poor man … and that child …”

“Never mind that. They have each other, after all, and she may run off with someone else one of these days. It would probably be a blessing for them both. Now, don't get involved in the Burnham family fights, for all you know, by now they're making passionate love. Maybe he likes her like that.”

“I doubt that.”

“How do you know?” He gazed at his wife, wondering if there was more to this than met the eye, but he decided there was not.

“I played tennis with him today. He asked about us, and I could tell by the way he talked that he's not happy with her.”

“At least that proves he's sane. But it's his problem, not ours. Now, I want you to forget about all that. Would you like a glass of champagne?” She hesitated for a moment and then decided that she would, and he returned a moment later with a glass for himself and another for her, and he kissed her tenderly on the cheek and the neck and the mouth and she put Nick Burnham and his wife out of her mind. Armand was right. There was nothing she could do. “Now, tell me what you're going to wear to the gala tonight.” They would be sitting at the captain's table again, and tonight was the most important of all on the ship. The next day would be their last night, and the following day they would reach Le Havre.

“I thought maybe the red moiré.”

“You'll look like a dream.” And his eyes told her that he meant every word.

“Thank you.” She sat down at her dressing table again, and watched him in the mirror as he began to undress. “Did you finish your work?”

“More or less.” He was deliberately vague.

“What does that mean?”

“We'll see.”

“You're coming to the gala tonight, aren't you?” For once she looked upset.

“Of course.” He returned to where she sat and kissed her shoulder just at the base of her neck. “But, I may not be able to stay very late.”

“You're going to work with Jacques after the gala?” She was suddenly tired of the trip, of not seeing Armand, of the people on board. She wanted to go home, or arrive in France.

“Jacques and I may have to work for a little while. We'll see how late it gets.”

“Oh, Armand …” She looked crestfallen as he sat down on the bed.

“I know. I know. I feel as though I've hardly seen you during the trip. And I wanted this to be a second honeymoon for us, but I have such a mountain of work to do before we arrive. Liane, I promise you, I'm doing my best.”

“I know. I don't mean to complain. I just thought that tonight …”

“So did I.” But he hadn't realized how much Perrier had dragged along from his desk. Armand barely had time to breathe between their meetings every day, but he had to be prepared, whether it was hard on Liane or not. “Anyway, we'll see. Maybe I'll be too drunk after the gala to go back to work.”

“You're inspiring me to devise a plot.”

“Don't you dare!” He smiled down at his wife, and she went to run her bath.

And in the Deauville suite at exactly the same time, Hillary had just poured herself another Scotch. It had been a rough day, rougher than Nick knew, the guy in second class had almost broken her neck, he was so rough. He had insisted that he didn't know she was married, and when he got a good look at her wedding ring, he told her he was giving her a little “gift” to take back to Nick. Some gift, the bite on her neck had created a long-avoided scene. In a way, it was a relief, but she hadn't liked what Nick had said.

He stood looking at her now, a glazed look in his eyes. It was as though he had aged ten years in that one afternoon.

“Are you dining in first class tonight or not?” He no longer cared, but he wanted to know if he should give the captain an excuse.

“Yes, I thought I would.”

“You don't have to, if you'd rather not.” It was the dawn of a new day, and Hillary was more than a little shocked.

“Would you rather I didn't?” She was a little frightened by his new attitude, but there was no way to come back from the things she had said and she remembered the stricken way he had looked on the deck. There was nothing vulnerable about him now. He looked totally indifferent to her, and his eyes were icy cold.

“Suit yourself. But do us both a favor. If you dine at the captain's table, try to behave. If that's too big a strain, then take yourself to dinner somewhere else.”

“Like in my room?” She would not be treated like a naughty child, not by him, or the moron downstairs. And she wasn't particularly anxious to go back there again. She had a feeling that that was getting a little out of hand. She would be safer upstairs in first class with Nick.

“I don't give a damn where you eat. But if you eat with me, you know the rules.”

She said not a word, but walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.





“Yes, I do. I know you too well. You have a tender heart for everyone you think is hurt. And you'll embarrass the poor man if he knows. It's bad enough to have been cuckolded by his wife.” He still found the story shocking, although not difficult to believe, and he couldn't resist glancing at Hillary himself when she sat down. She was a remarkably beautiful girl, but she looked pure bitch. And the high neck of the dress covered what Liane had overheard described, the bruise on her neck left by her most recent lover. Perhaps that was why she had worn the dress, Liane thought to herself as she glanced at Armand.