Kit cleaned up after the meal while Lucien took Jason off to a guest room. When he returned, he wrapped his arms around her as if the action was as natural as breathing. She leaned into him, her fatigue and tension dropping away like petals falling from an overblown rose.

"Do you resent his closeness to Kira?" he asked.

"My newfound cousin was right-you know too much." She hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I like Jason… he seems an honorable sort and obviously he loves Kira deeply. If I read her feelings correctly, she loves him just as much. God knows that I truly want her to be happy."

She gave a soft, unhappy exhalation. "But at the same time, I do resent his coming between us. After she met him, she started shutting me out. She had every right to do that. And yet…" Kit hid her face against his shoulder and said wretchedly, "She never even told him we were twins! That has been the most significant fact in my life, yet she didn't think it important enough to tell him."

He stroked her head tenderly. He was getting very good at soothing her, she thought with a touch of hysteria.

"Perhaps the omission wasn't because the relationship was unimportant to her, but because it was too important," he suggested. "I suspect that one reason idosti-cal twins like to confuse others is because it keeps people at a distance and protects the uniqueness of the twin bond. You are an aspect of Kira's life that is so special, she probably didn't dare share it until she was sure of him. Because of their different nationalities, she may have had misgivings about the relationship from the first, so she didn't tell him."

The constriction in Kit's throat eased. "I don't know if that's true, but it's a very nice explanation. I like it." She looked up at him. "Where did you learn to be so kind?"

Though the question was rhetorical, he replied, "From Linnie. Not only did she have a gentle spirit, but she taught me something of how the female mind works." His voice became self-mocking. "I also know that if she had grown up, fallen in love, and married, I would have resented her husband. Not because of any perverted physical jealousy of my sister, but because I would fear the loss of the special closeness between us."

And he had lost that closeness for all time when he was no more than a child himself. The thought made Kit feel ashamed of her own complaints. She hugged him harder, wishing she could change the past so that Elinor had survived. "You would have overcome your jealousy and wished her well with a full heart."

"You'll do the same." He nuzzled her hair. "It's very late. Why not spend the rest of the night here with me?"

When she hesitated, he said, "Only to sleep, Kit, I swear it. I don't want to do anything that might jeopardize your connection with Kira. But it's been a long, tiring day, and I would rest much better if you were beside me."

"I'd better not. What would your servants think?"

"They were all chosen for their ability to be discreet," he said lightly. "And they might as well get used to the sight of you since you're their future mistress."

He must have felt her tense, because he put his hands on her shoulders and examined her face. "It hasn't escaped my attention that when I mention marriage, you react like a rabbit that has been cornered by a ferret. Is the prospect of being my wife so distasteful?"

Lucien would be easier to deal with if he were less perceptive. Again choosing her words with care, she said, "It's not distasteful, but the possibility seems unreal. I can't see beyond Kira's disappearance to a time that is normal again."

"And that is as much as you're going to say, isn't it?" he said dryly. "Very well, I won't nag you. But I'm not going to change my mind, and I can be amazingly persistent."

"I know, to my cost." She rested her forehead against his cheek. "You're amazing in quite a lot of ways."

"Stay with me," he said softly. "Please."

It was as hard to deny him as it was for her to disagree with Kira. And the brazen truth was that she wanted to be with him as much as he wanted her. "Very well," she whispered. "I'll stay."

Chapter 27

In deference to the circumstances, Lucien produced two of his seldom-used nightshirts. Kit's enveloped her from chin to well past her toes. She looked delectable as she nestled against his side and quickly fell asleep. Though he was tired from a long day on muddy roads, he stayed awake longer, savoring the pure sweetness of having her with him.

Was her reluctance to marry general, or specific to him? Perhaps a bit of both. He'd have to convince her that he had no intention of clipping her wings and turning her into a domestic sparrow. She could be as much of a radical thinker under his roof as she was under her cousin's.

He dozed off, only to come awake with a jerk when Kit gave a choked scream and struck out with her left fist, almost smashing him in the eye. He caught her wrists to stop her flailing. "Kit, wake up! You're having a nightmare."

Her eyes opened, but she continued to struggle. "Kit, it's Lucien and you're safe," he said sharply. "You're safe."

Her thrashing stopped. "Lucien?" she whispered uncertainly.

"I'm here, Kit," He released her wrists and lit the candle on the night table. "Describe your nightmare."

"It was dreadful. I… I was wearing some strange, indecent costume, and I was flogging a man. He hung in chains, writhing as I struck him again and again." She gave a shuddering sigh. "Even though I was furious with myself, I reveled in every blow. The strangest thing of all was that I had the feeling… that he was enjoying it." She covered her face with chilly hands. "Do dreams reveal our inner natures? If so, mine is loathsome."

"Sometimes dreams show us ourselves," he said slowly. "But they can tell us other things." He stacked several pillows against the headboard to support himself, then cradled her against his chest. "Tell me any other details you remember before you forget them."

"A closed space-suffocating. Sweaty heat. The decor is elaborate and very vulgar." Fretfully, she undid the button that secured the throat of her nightshirt. "I'm wearing tight black boots with insanely high heels and a peculiar garment like a… a black satin snake skin. And a long wig. Red, I think."

"What did the man look like?"

She rubbed her temple, then shook her head in frustration. "It's fading away. I'm sorry. I need water." She sat up and swung from the bed, then collapsed onto the carpet.

"Kit!" Lucien dived from the bed and scooped her into his arms, then laid her on the bed and pulled the covers up.

She was white and trembling all over, but she managed a feeble smile. "I'm all right, truly. This has happened before. I'll be fine in a few minutes."

He paused, arrested, on the way to the washstand. "How often does it occur?"

"In a milder form this sort of thing has happened all my life." She exhaled wearily. "Lately it's been much worse. Now I'm not simply tired, but so drained I can scarcely stand, as you saw. The nightmares are new, too. I suppose both things are a result of worrying about Kira."

"Perhaps." He poured a glass of water and brought it to the bed. "Have all the nightmares involved whipping someone?"

She thought. "I… I think so."

He supported her while she drank, then gently laid her back against the pillows. As he went to build up the fire, he asked, "Is it possible that instead of dreaming, you are sensing Kira's actual thoughts and experiences?"

"I shouldn't think so," she said doubtfully. "Sensing her emotions is a long way from being able to read her mind."

"Think back. The whip you were using-was it in your right hand or your left hand?"

She stared at her hands and her face paled. "The right-Kira's hand, not mine." She looked up at Lucien, her face perplexed. "But the images are nightmarish, unreal. Kira would never deliberately torture someone."

He said soberly, "You said that you felt the man was enjoying it. Perhaps he wanted her to whip him."

"No one could possibly enjoy that kind of pain!"

"Not necessarily." He sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand between both of his. "The roots of desire are complex and mysterious, Kit. For some, pleasure and pain are so closely intertwined that they find the right kind of pain exciting."

Seeing her disbelief, he said, "I know it seems implausible, but right here in London there are brothels that specialize in whipping. I know a woman who owns one, and an extremely good living she makes from it."

Kit bit her lip, journalistic curiosity overcoming her personal feelings. "Has she ever explained why men come to her?"

"Dolly says that many of her customers are very powerful, influential men who carry heavy responsibilities. Being in a situation where they are helpless and the only purpose is sex arouses them. Similarly, there are women who like to wield a whip because it is one time when they can dominate a man totally and be thanked for it."

"I suppose that makes a weird kind of sense."

"Don't expect too much logic-it's not a rational subject," he said dryly. "There are both men and women with these specialized tastes, and some take turns at both ends of the whip. And it isn't only whipping. Dolly has customers who talk rapturously about being spanked by nursemaids or schoolmasters when they were children, and ever since they've been looking for the same kind of pleasure-pain. Others-" He halted. "Never mind. I'm sure you get the general idea."

Kit's hand clenched his. "Do you think Kira has been kidnapped and forced to work in that sort of brothel?"

"It's unlikely-such places don't need to kidnap employees. There are society women who sometimes go to Dolly's and work for free." He shifted uncomfortably, wishing he didn't have to explain such things to Kit. "I think your original idea was right. Kira was abducted by a man who was obsessed by her. However, instead of standard rape, he has… more unusual tastes. Once she was his captive, he could explain what gave him pleasure and make it clear that it is in her interest to please him."

"Oh, God!" Kit pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, expression nauseated. "That's revolting."

"There are worse things that could have happened to her," he said gravely. "It would explain why you sense she is physically well even though she is emotionally distressed."

Kit frowned. "If such a man is aroused by being helpless, what is the point of holding her captive? He would still be in control even if the whip is in her hand."

Lucien shrugged. "Perhaps he is incapable of ever allowing himself to be completely helpless, so he creates an illusion of submission while still retaining the ultimate power."

Looking as if she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, she asked, "Have you ever done such things, Lucien?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Dolly has offered to demonstrate the exquisite pleasure of being dominated by an artist like her, but I declined. The only pleasure I've ever found in pain is relief when it stops."

Since Kit still seemed baffled, he added, "Many things that are considered perverse are merely extensions of behavior that is accepted as normal. Most sets of lovers play in ways that mutually please them-teasing, or mock wrestling, or pretend seduction, for example. Some people just go further."

She made a face. "Much further. Still, explained like that, I can understand a little better. Do you think Dolly will tell you the names of her customers?"

"I doubt that she would give them to me outright, but she might confirm names that I suggest to her. Remember, though, there is no guarantee that the villain is someone who has patronized her establishment."

"It's a start. Ask her about Mace, Chiswick, Nunfield, Westley, and Harfqrd. Though I don't think Harford is the abductor, he might be involved indirectly." Looking stronger, she pushed herself to a sitting position. "What made you suspect that my nightmares were coming from Kira?"

"Linnie and I used to have the same bad dreams sometimes, though we didn't realize it until we were nine and compared notes after a difficult night. Also, there was the matter of lending strength. Remember that I said I did that with her?"

"Yes, but I wasn't sure what you meant."