Winston nodded. He was so furious he could barely speak. The prince's revulsion was apparent. The earl of Winchester knew he wouldn't be included in any of the more important functions in future. As soon as the prince gave him the cut direct everyone else would follow suit.

Sara could feel her father's rage. Her throat closed up, and she thought she was going to be sick. "May I have a glass of water, please?" she whispered to Nathan.

He immediately got up and left the room to fetch a drink for her. Caine also moved from his chair and took Luther Grant out the side door.

Winston turned to Sir Richards. "I could challenge this. It's still Grant's word against mine."

The director shook his head. "We have other evidence," he lied.

The earl of Winchester stood up. He obviously believed the director's bluff. "I see," he muttered. "How did you find out about Luther?" he asked the prince.

"Your wife told us," the prince answered. "She came to her daughter's aid, Winston, while you tried to destroy her. Leave, Winston. It pains me to look at you."

The earl of Winchester bowed to the prince, turned to stare at his daughter for the briefest of seconds, and then left the office.

Sara had never seen such black fury on her father's face. She was filled with terror. She knew her mother would soon bear the brunt of his anger.

Dear God, she thought, she had to get to her first.

"Will you please excuse me?" she cried out as she rushed toward the door.

Sara had barely received the prince's nod before she'd closed the front door behind her.

"Do you think she's ill?" Sir Richards asked.

"I can't imagine why she wouldn't be," the prince answered. "Richards," he added in a softer tone of voice, "I know how the various department heads whisper their contempt for me. Oh, I have my spies to keep me informed. I also know you've never said a word against me. Although I've incorrectly been judged as a ruler who changes his mind whenever the whim comes over me, I tell you now that it isn't so. I won't change my mind about this issue with Winston, I assure you."

Sir Richards walked to the door with the prince. "You do realize, my lord, that I lied when I told Winston we had other evidence against him. It really is Grant's word against his, and if he were to push this issue…"

The prince smiled. "He won't push anything," he assured the director.

Nathan walked in by way of the side entrance with a glass of water in his hand and Caine by his side. The prince had just taken his leave. "Where's Sara?" Nathan asked.

"She went to the washroom," Sir Richards explained. He went back to his desk and collapsed in the chair. "By God, that went smoothly. I couldn't be certain how the prince regent would behave. He was on the mark this time, wasn't he?"

"Will he stay on the mark?" Caine asked. "Or will Winston be back in his camp come tomorrow?"

The director shrugged. "I pray that he won't change his mind, and my feeling is that he'll keep his promise."

Caine leaned on the edge of the desk. "I cannot believe you let him read the files, Richards."

"Then don't believe it," his director answered, grinning. "I gave him only a brief summary of some of the lesser deeds accomplished. Quit your frown, Caine. Nathan, for God's sake, quit pacing with that glass in your hand. Most of the water's on the carpet now."

"What's taking Sara so long?"

"I believe she wasn't feeling well. Let her have a few more minutes of privacy."

Nathan let out a sigh. He went to refill the glass while Sir Richards caught Caine up on activities within the department.

Nathan tried to be patient, but when another ten minutes went by and Sara still hadn't returned to the office he decided to go after her. "Where the hell is the washroom? Sara might need me."

Sir Richards gave him directions to the floor above. "Are the papers ready for signatures?" Caine asked when Nathan turned to leave.

"They're on the desk," Nathan called over his shoulder. "As soon as I get my hands on Sara we can get this over and done with."

"He's quite a romantic," Caine drawled out.

"Actually, what he's about to do for his wife indicates to me that he really is a romantic at heart. Who would have thought Nathan would fall in love?"

Caine grinned. "Who would have thought anyone would have him? Sara's as much in love with him as he is with her. Nathan's determined to start over," he added with a nod toward the papers.

"Ah, love in bloom," Sir Richards said. "Sara will certainly be pleased with his thoughtfulness. God knows she's deserving of some happiness. It was hard on her today. Why, the look on her face when the prince made mention of her mother nearly broke my heart, Caine, and I'm certainly not given to emotion as you well know. Lady Sara looked so frightened. I wanted to reach out to her, to pat her and tell her it would all wash out. I'm not usually so demonstrative, but I tell you I had to restrain myself from going over to her."

Caine looked bewildered. "I don't recall the prince mentioning Sara's mother."

"I believe both you and Nathan were out of the room at the time," Richards said. "Yes, that's right," he added with a nod. "Sara sat all alone. Nathan had gone to fetch some water for her."

"Sara isn't in the washroom," Nathan bellowed from the doorway. "Damn it, Richards, where'd you send her? Down the street, for God's sake?"

Caine stood up. "Nathan, we might have a problem." His voice was harsh from worry. "Sir Richards, tell us exactly what the prince said about Sara's mother."

The director was already pushing his chair back so that he could stand up. He wasn't certain what the danger was, but the scent was there, permeating the air.

"Winston demanded to know who told us about Grant. The prince told him it was his wife who gave us the name."

Both Nathan and Caine were already running out the door. "Surely Winston wouldn't dare touch his wife or his daughter," Sir Richards muttered as he chased after the two men. "You're thinking that's where Sara went, aren't you? Charles," he shouted over his shoulder, "bring the carriage around."

Nathan reached the ground level with Caine right on his heels when Sir Richards turned the corner of the landing above. "Nathan, you don't believe Winston is capable of hurting either his wife or his daughter."

Nathan threw the door open and ran out onto the sidewalk. "No," he shouted over his shoulder. "Winston won't touch them. He'll leave it to his brother to mete out the punishment. That's how the bastard operates. Damn it, Sara took your carriage, Caine. God, we've got to get to her before Henry does."

A hack was racing down the street. Nathan seized his opportunity. He wasn't about to wait for the director's carriage. He ran into the street, braced himself for the struggle, and grabbed the reins of the two horses.

He threw his shoulder into the side of the horse closer to him. Caine added his strength, and the vehicle came to a screeching stop.

The driver was thrown on top of the vehicle. He started shouting. The fare, a blond-headed young man with spectacles and a squint, stuck his head out the window to see what all the commotion was about just as Nathan pulled the door open. Before the man knew what had happened Nathan had tossed him to the pavement.

Caine shouted directions to the driver while Sir Richards helped the stranger to his feet. The director was being very solicitous until he realized he was about to be left behind. He rudely shoved the man back to the ground and jumped inside the hack before Caine could pull the door closed.

No one said a word on the ride over to the Winchesters' townhouse. Nathan was shaking with terror. For the first time in his life he rebelled against the isolation he'd always enforced upon himself. He needed her, and dear God, if something happened to her before he could prove to her that he could be worthy, could love her as much as she deserved to be loved, he didn't think he could go on.

In the space of those long, unbearable minutes Nathan learned how to pray. He felt as unskilled as an atheist, couldn't remember a single prayer from childhood days, and so ended up simply begging God's mercy.

How he needed her.

The ride over to her mother's residence wasn't quite as traumatic for Sara. She wasn't in a panic because she knew she had enough time to get to her mother first. Her father would have to go to his brother's townhouse. That ride would take him at least twenty minutes. Then he'd have to spend at least fifteen more minutes working his brother into a rage for the injustices dealt to him. Assuming that Henry would certainly be in the throes of his daily hangover, it would take him time to clear his head and get dressed.

There was also the oddly comforting fact that surely in that amount of time Nathan would put the pieces together and figure out she wasn't in the washroom. She knew he'd come after her.

Don't give up on me. His whispered command once again intruded upon her thoughts. She immediately tried to get angry over the insulting demand. How dare he think she'd given up on him. How dare he…

She couldn't work herself up into a proper fury, for in her heart she wasn't at all certain she had the right to be outraged. Had she given up on him? No, of course not, she told herself. The simple fact was that Nathan didn't love her.

He had shown her consideration, though. She'd give him that much. She remembered how he'd rubbed her back when she'd been in such embarrassing agony with her monthly cramps. His touch had been so gentle, so soothing.

He was a gentle lover, too. Not that he'd ever given her loving words when he was caressing her. But he'd shown her kindness, patience, and never once had she truly been afraid of him. Never once.

But he didn't love her.

He'd spent long hours teaching her so many little things he thought she needed to know to become self-sufficient. She thought it was because he didn't want to watch out for her. And while she did consider it her duty to protect those she loved, like her mother, she left the task of her own protection to her husband.

Like her mother…

Dear God, Nora had been right. Without realizing it Sara had been following in her mother's path. She had been determined to become dependent on her husband. If Nathan had turned out to be a cruel, selfish man like her father, would Sara have learned how to cringe whenever he raised his voice to her?

She shook her head. No, she would never allow any man to terrorize her. Nathan had made her realize her own strength. She could survive alone, and she certainly could stand up for herself.

He hadn't taught her how to defend herself because he didn't want to be bothered with the chore of watching out for her. He just didn't want anything to happen to her.

He was a kind man.

Sara burst into tears. Why couldn't he love her?

Don't give up on me. If he didn't love her, why did he care if she gave up on him or not?

Sara was so consumed with her thoughts, she didn't realize the carriage had stopped until Caine's driver shouted down to her.

She asked the driver to wait, then hurried up the steps.

The butler, a new man hired by her father, told her that both her mother and her sister had gone out for the afternoon.

Sara didn't believe him. She pushed her way past the servant and hurried up the stairs to the bedroom level to see for herself.

The butler sniffed at her lack of manners and retired to the back of the house.

The bedrooms were empty. Sara was at first relieved, then she realized she would have to find her mother before either of the Winchester men did. She went through the stack of invitations on top of her mother's writing table, but none gave her a clue as to the afternoon activities.

She decided to go back downstairs and force the information out of the servants. Surely one of them knew where her mother had gone.

Sara had just reached the landing when the front door opened. She thought it was her mother returning home and started down the steps. She stopped midway when Uncle Henry strutted into the foyer.

He saw her at once. The sneer on his face made her stomach lurch.

"Father went directly to you with his anger, didn't he?" she called out, contempt evident in her voice. "I knew he would," she added. "It's the only thing he's predictable about. He thinks he's so cunning to let his drunken brother dole out the punishment whenever he's upset. Father's waiting at White's, isn't he?"