“I wouldn’t think leaving New York is such a bad idea, but going to live alone in a farmhouse at your age is not exactly the height of entertaining either. What about spending summers there, or weekends?”

She shook her head with the same determined look. “I want to be there all the time. I want to restore it myself.”

“Have you ever done anything like that?” He was amused by her. She was an enchanting creature, and he was amazed at how much he liked her.

“No. But I know that I can.” She sounded a little as though she were practicing to convince her father.

“Do you really think they’ll let you do it?”

“They’ll have to.” She set her chin, and he gently tweaked it.

“I imagine you must keep them rather busy. No wonder they’ve brought you to Europe to meet Prince Charming. I’m not sure I blame them Perhaps you really ought to have one of those sweet young droolers.”

She looked shocked and then took a swipe at him with her napkin, and he laughed as he defended himself and found himself breathlessly close to her, and for a mad instant he wanted to kiss her. But as he looked down at her, he saw something so sad in her eyes that it actually stopped him

“There’s a secret in your life, isn’t there? And it’s not a happy one, is it?”

She hesitated for a long time before she answered him. And she did so with caution. “I don’t know if I’d call it that.” But her eyes told their own story.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Sarah. I’m only a stranger. But I like you. You’re a great girl, and if something dreadful has happened to you, then I’m truly sorry.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, looking very wise and very beautiful, and more alluring than ever.

“Sometimes the things that hurt us the worst are the ones we forget quickest. They hurt so brutally for a while, and then they heal and it’s over.” But he could see that this wasn’t healed yet, or even over. He imagined she’d been jilted by someone, or perhaps the boy she had loved had died, something sweet and romantic and innocent, and she’d get over it soon enough. Her parents had been right to bring her to Europe. She was a real beauty and a bright girl, and whatever it was, she’d get over it quickly, particularly if she met the right boy in Europe … lucky devil!

They chatted for a long time, safely tucked away in their arbor, until at last they ventured out to rejoin the other guests, and within moments they ran smack into their somewhat eccentric hostess, William’s cousin, Belinda.

“Good God, there you are! I told everyone you’d gone home. My Lord, William, you’re impossible!” She looked amused beyond words as she spotted Sarah with him. “I was just about to tell you that the Thompsons are convinced their daughter fell into the moat. They haven’t seen her since they got here, what on earth have you been up to?”

“I kidnapped her. Told her the story of my life. And she was properly revolted, and asked to be returned to her family at once, so I was just bringing her back to you, with endless remorse, and humblest apologies.” He was grinning from ear to ear, and Sarah was clearly smiling, and entirely at ease beside him.

“You are absolutely dreadful! And what’s more, you’ve never felt remorse in your entire life.” She turned to Sarah with a look of concerned amusement. “My dear, did he harm you? Should I call the constable?”

“Oh, do!” William encouraged her, “I haven’t seen him in months.”

“Oh, do shut up, you monster.” But Sarah was laughing at them, and Belinda shook her head in mock despair. “I shall never invite you again, you know. One simply can’t. You’re far too badly behaved to invite with decent people.”

“It’s what everyone says.” He looked mournfully at Sarah, who hadn’t been this happy in years. “Do I dare introduce myself to your parents?”

“I think you’d better,” Belinda growled at him, unaware of the fact that he had every intention of meeting them, and seeing Sarah again, if they’d let him. He had no idea who or what she was, but he knew without a doubt that he wanted to get to know her better. “I’ll take you to them,” Belinda said helpfully, and Sarah and William followed her, giggling and laughing and whispering, like naughty children. But the Thompsons were far from angry at her when they saw her again. They knew that she had to be safe somewhere on the property, among the other guests. And they were very pleased when they saw her with William. He looked pleasant and intelligent, and he was a good-looking man, of reasonable age, and he seemed to be very taken with their daughter.

“I have to apologize,” he explained. “We got waylaid at the farm, and then we stopped for lunch. And I’m afraid that I detained Sarah far longer than was proper.”

“Don’t believe a word of it,” Belinda interjected. “I’m sure he kept her tied to a tree somewhere, and ate all her lunch while he told her abominable stories.”

“What a good idea,” William said pensively, as the Thompsons laughed at them. “Sarah, we really ought to try that next time.” He seemed surprisingly comfortable with her, and she with him, and they chatted for a long time, until George appeared, enchanted to find him again, and insisted that he come to the stables to see his new stallion. William was dragged away in spite of himself, and Belinda chatted on with them, raising an admiring eyebrow at Sarah.

“I shouldn’t say this, my dear, but you’ve captured the eye of the most attractive man in England, and possibly the nicest.”

“We had a very pleasant time talking.” But pleasant wasn’t exactly the word she would have used, if she’d been talking to her sister. He was really quite terrific.

“He’s too smart for his own good. Never married. He’s far too choosy.” Belinda shot a warning glance at the Thompsons, as though to tell them he wouldn’t be an easy catch, but they seemed not to notice. “It’s remarkable how unassuming he is. One would never know, would one….” She turned to Sarah again then. “I don’t suppose he said anything…. You do know that he’s the Duke of Whitfield, don’t you?” She opened her eyes wide and Sarah stared at her.

“I … uh … he just introduced himself as William Whitfield.”

“He does that. Actually, it’s one of the things I like most about him. I forget where he is in all that. thirteenth or fourteenth in the succession.”

“To the throne?” Sarah asked in a strangled voice.

“Yes, of course. Though it’s not likely he’ll ever get there. But still, it means something to all of us. We’re stupid about things like that here. I suppose it all has to do with tradition. Well, anyway, I’m glad you’re all right. I was a bit worried when we couldn’t find you.”

“I’m sorry.” Sarah blushed furiously, still staggering mentally from the information about her new friend, William. And then suddenly, she wondered if she had made some really dreadful faux pas with him. “Am I supposed to call him something? … I mean … some tide? Something special?”

Belinda smiled at her. She was so young, and so very pretty. “Your Grace, but if you do, I suppose he’ll shoot us both. I wouldn’t say anything about it, unless he does.” Sarah nodded, and William rejoined them just as their hostess left them.

“How was the horse?” Sarah asked in a subdued voice, trying to sound normal, as her parents pretended to ignore them.

“Not nearly as impressive as the price George paid for him, I’m afraid. He’s the worst judge of horseflesh I’ve ever seen. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if the poor beast turned out to be sterile.” And then he looked at her guiltily. “Sorry, I don’t suppose I should have said that.”

“It’s all right.” She smiled at him, wondering what he would say if she called him “Your Grace” now. “I think I’ve probably heard worse.”

“I hope not.” And then he grinned. “Oh … the droolers … God only knows what they’d say.” She laughed at him and they exchanged a long look, as she wondered to herself what she was doing. He was a duke, in line to the throne, and she was acting as though they were old friends, but that was how she felt after spending the last three hours with him, and she didn’t want to go back to London.

“Where are you staying?” She heard him ask her father, as they walked slowly back to the castle again, to the moat where they had entered.

“At Claridge’s. Would you join us there sometime? For a drink, or for dinner?” Her father said it very casually, and William looked delighted with the invitation.

“I’d like that. May I call you in the morning?” He addressed the question to Edward, and not to Sarah.

“Certainly. We’ll look forward to hearing from you, sir,” Edward said as he shook his hand. Then William turned to Sarah as her parents walked past her to the waiting car and driver.

“I had a wonderful time today. I really didn’t expect that. I almost didn’t come … you were a lovely surprise, Miss Sarah Thompson.”

“Thank you.” She smiled up at him. “I had a wonderful time too.” And then she couldn’t help saying something to him about what Belinda had told them. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“About what?”

“Your Grace.” She said it with a shy smile and for a moment she was afraid he’d be angry, but he laughed, after only a moment’s hesitation.

“Dear Belinda.” And then, “Does it matter?” he asked softly.

“No, not at all. Should it?”

“It might. To some. For all the wrong reasons.” But he already knew from talking to her that she wasn’t one of those people. And then he looked at her with an expression that was both serious and teasing. “You know my secret now, Miss Sarah Thompson … but be careful!”

“Why?” She looked puzzled, as he moved just a little closer to her.

“If you know my secret, perhaps in time I will ask you to share yours.”

“What makes you think I have one?”

“We both know that, don’t we?” he said softly, and she nodded, her eyes very full, as he reached out and touched her hand gently. He didn’t want her to be frightened of him. “Don’t worry, little one … don’t ever tell me anything you don’t want to.” He bent and kissed her cheek then, and walked her slowly to the car to return her to her parents. She looked up at him in awe as he stood beside the car, and waved until they were gone. And as they rode back to London, she wondered if he would ever call them.






Chapter 5





HE next morning, as Edward was having breakfast with his wife in the living room of their suite at Claridge’s, the telephone rang, and a secretary’s voice announced a call from the Duke of Whitfield. There was a moment’s pause, and William’s warm, genial voice came on the line with a friendly greeting.