his life and heart to every stray who wandered past, taking in abandoned valets, reformed cannibals-even ugly lizards.


Everyone but his ward, she realized. There was no room at the inn for Claire Scarborough.


Until she felt the tears streaming down her cheeks, Emily didn't realize she was crying. She backed

away from the meeting house. The emotional carousel she'd been on since her guardian had stepped

out of the shadows was spinning out of control and, dear God, she had to get off.


The village blurred as she pelted past the gate into the tangled arms of the forest. Behind her a dog barked, the sound hollow against the blood rushing through her ears. She might have heard a man's

frantic cry, or it might have been only the careening slam of her heart. Dappled shadows lured her

deeper into the bush, promising escape. Vines swatted her face, but she barely felt their sting.


The land climbed and Emily scrambled upward, digging her nails into a naked root to keep from falling. This narrow finger of land jutted high above the island, giving her a breathtaking view of a slim ribbon

of beach below and rolling hills of grain to the west. The shimmering crowns of the fern trees waved

over the emerald forest to the east, giving it all the illusion of a tropical paradise. The air was cooler

here, sheltered from the sun by a tall stand of trees.


At another time Emily might have delighted in its beauty, but now it only pained her-like gazing at something she wanted desperately but could never have. She claimed the farthest tip of land as her

own, flinging her am around a tree and digging her toes into the cottony moss. A snowy bird hopped

off a vine and went dancing into the sky. She stood aching and adrift in a whisper of Dirdsong as the breeze cooled her flaming cheeks. She had ro flee the island, flee Justin before her own defenses were replaced by the tender adoration she had seen on the faces ot the natives.


A shrill giggle rang out, mocking her heart's turmoil, only to be followed by the maniacal patter of little feet. Emily whirled around. The hill was shaded, the surrounding trees rife with shadows.


On the other side of the bluff a bush shuddered. Emily moaned. What now? she wondered. Pygmies? Gnomes? She'd been awake only since noon, and the day had been one disaster after another. She

was beginning to feel like die little girl who had tumbled down the rabbit hole in Mr. Carroll's novel.

She wouldn't have been surprised if a white lizard had bolted out of the trees, pulling her father's

watch from his waistcoat pocket.


She scanned the tangled undergrowth. It trembled as if ilive. Tiny invisible eyes bored into her like

poison darts.


She turned to flee and ran straight into a tree, eliciting i demonic ripple of laughter.


"It's not funny!" she cried, spinning around.


Straight ahead of her a low-slung bush quivered with mirth. Anger surged through her. She narrowed

her eyes.


Wouldn't be laughing so hard if I had an ax, would you?"


Gathering her skirt in her fists, she dashed toward the bush. At the last possible second she jumped, clearing it in jne leap, catching the barest flash of tanned skin and shocked eyes.


The hunt was on.


The forest erupted in running feet. Emily hurtled through the dense brush, leaping bushes and dodging branches with an agility that surprised even her. She expected an arrow to tear through her tender flesh

in a second. The trees thinned, but she didn't dare pause to look behind her.


She burst out of the cool canopy into the warmth of sunlight and an endless vista of aqua sea. There

was an instant when she might have stopped, but the stampede of little feet spurred her on. The land

tilted beneath her and she went tumbling head over heels down the sandy slope. Flashes of brown and blue spun in her vision. After an eternity of undignified grunting she caught the land and held it still beneath her stomach.


Eyes closed, she turned her face to the side, gasping for breath. Her fingers curled in the warm sand.

A breeze stiff with salt caressed her aching legs. A curious silence assailed her.


She eased her eyes open to find herself surrounded by toes-dozens of plump little toes browned like raisins by the sun.


She lifted her head. Her eyes widened in shock to find a little boy wearing nothing but a necklace of

shells and an impudent grin.


Naked children ringed her. Emily had never seen so much baby fat in one place.


These children had never been swaddled in corsets and crinolines. They'd never been stuffed into stockings or endured the torture of hooking a dozen buttons on high black boots that pinched their toes. They stared at her, and Emily stared back, shocked but fascinated by their freedom.


A solemn little girl gazed shyly at her from behind a fall of dark hair. Her belly pooched out in the swayback posture of a toddler. She popped her thumb in her mouth, sucking it noisily.


Groaning, Emily flopped to her back in the sand. "Why couldn't you have been Pygmies? I hate

children."


The little boy offered her his hand. "Isn't it a bit intolerant of you to condemn an entire echelon of

society based only on their collective ages?"


She jerked her head up. She hadn't expected him to understand her, much less answer in anything more than childish jabber.


She warily took his hand and climbed to her feet. "Let me guess. Justin must have taught you English."


"Justin?" he repeated.


The little girl spat out her thumb and squealed, "Pakeha!"


The children's faces lit up as they joined in her joyful trilling.


"Oh, for heaven's sake. Stop that, won't you? You're making my head ache." Emily backed away from them, throwing out her arms in a helpless gesture. "Of course. It only makes sense that Justin would be the almighty, magnificent, all-holy Pakeha!"


They lapsed into silence. The boy stared at her vacantly. Apparently, his tutor had yet to teach him the sting of sarcasm. The little girl gazed up at her with something akin to awe.


"Must she stare so? It makes me fidget."


The boy gathered the toddler to his side. "She is my sister, Dani. They call me Kawiri."


Emily bobbed a reluctant curtsy. "They call me Emily." She rested her hands on her hips. "Why were

you chasing me?"


"We weren't chasing you. We were following you. We had no idea you'd be asinine enough to fall off

the hill." Emily couldn't find an argument for such evenhanded logic. "Neither did I," she muttered. "Asinine. Now, there's a good word. Did your mighty Pakeha begin with the A's?"


Dani opened her mouth to chirp. Emily didn't think she could bear another hymn to Justin's goodness,

so she squatted and plugged the child's thumb back in. While the other children experimented with

Emily's name, the little girl pulled a crimson flower from behind her ear.


She tucked the bloom in Emily's hair, weaving it among the curls. Emily felt a hesitant smile touch her lips.


As a new excitement rippled through the children, she straightened. A plump boy pointed toward the waves, yelling in Maori.


"High tide," Kawiri explained.


"High tide?"


At Emily's blank look, he added, "A natural phenomenon initiated by the waxing and waning of lunar forces which in turn-"


"I know what a tide is," she interrupted.


He shrugged and jogged after the others. They pounded across the beach toward the waves, whooping

in sounds that needed no language.


Emily watched, envying them their freedom and fighting a wistful sense of abandonment.


She felt a shy tug on her hand. Dani gazed up at her, grinning toothlessly. "Emmy," she said.


Her heart contracted.


Kawiri had spun around to jog backward. "Make haste, Emily. The day won't last forever."


"For a while it seemed like it might," she said softly.


Clinging to Dani's hand, she pelted after him, scattering sand in her wake.


* * *

Justin sat high atop the sandy bluff overlooking the beach. The wind raked his hair from his eyes, but

not even the ocean breeze could cool his fevered musings. His gaze was locked on the beach below, drawn like the tide to the enchanting child-woman dancing through the waves.


Who the hell was she?


Had women changed so much since he'd left England? Emily was so little like those he had known in London that she seemed to be some exotic species, both irresistible and mysterious. Her mercurial

moods both compelled and exhausted him. She was nothing like his addle-witted mother and even less like his vapid sisters. Their only concerns in life had been which gentlemen were going to sign their

dance cards for the next ball. His stunning fiancee, Suzanne, had slapped his face in the lobby of the Theatre Royal when he'd informed her he'd rejected his inheritance, but at least he had understood her motive- healthy greed.


As Justin watched, Emily lifted her skirts and frolicked through the shallow waves, tossing her head

with laughter as the children splashed her. Droplets of water caught in her hair, sparkled on her skin.

A flower nestled in her hair, a crimson splash against her chestnut locks.


Had some man wounded her? Justin wondered. His hands clenched into fists. He'd like to get his

hands on the wretch. The image of her being ill used at the hands of some scoundrel filled him with

both jealousy and rage. And grief-a wistful longing that he could have known her before the shadow touched her smile.


She knelt in the wet sand, cupping her hands around a castle tower while Kawiri dug a moat with his toe.


Had some wealthy rake seduced her? He knew only too well the morals of his London. Propriety and upright thinking were the false gods of society. What went on behind closed doors was another matter.

A man could do what he liked to a woman as long as he wasn't caught doing it. The sinking sun dipped behind a cloud, and Justin shivered. David's wealth had given him and Nicholas the means to escape London's stifling confines, but what means had Emily been forced to use? If left alone without the guidance of her guardian, would David's daughter be forced into similar straits?


The children took their leave in laughing clusters, leaving Emily alone on the beach. Justin stood,

hoping to slip away before she caught him spying on her. But at that moment the sun clipped away the edge of the cloud: its rays struck his chest with a fiery warmth. Emily shaded her eyes and he knew she had seen the sun glint off his watch case.


Their gazes locked and held for a long time before she turned her face away and stared out to sea.


Justin scrambled down the bluff, but the proud curve of her back warned him to silence. He was beset

by a terrible urge to touch her there. To lay his palm against the warm satin of her bare skin and draw

her into his arms. His breath caught in his throat, trapped by an unbearable wave of longing.


He swallowed his questions, hesitant to shatter anything as fragile as her pride. "I saw you in the village."


"Forgive me for intruding. I hope I didn't stop you from healing any lepers or raising any natives from

the dead." Her voice was as brittle as her stance as she swung around to face him. "Where are your followers? I expected you'd be trailed by a veritable parade of blind men and paralytics."


Her mocking tone stung him less than the depth of her emotion. It was not a child's petulance he read in her darkened eyes, but the anguish of a woman.


He stretched out his hand, no longer able to keep from touching her. She recoiled visibly and his fingers slowly curled into his palm.