"The only way is for me to leave."

"That is unacceptable to me—and to you. If I were but free to marry you I should be the happiest man alive."

"There is no way."

"Unless we discover a new heir. If only Rudolph had married... ."

"He did marry."

"Oh, the entry in the register. It wasn't there, was it? We searched. If only there had been proof of his marriage and there had been an heir. If we could bring forward that heir and say, 'Here is the new ruler of Bruxenstein' should the Grand Duke die."

"He would be only a child."

"Children grow up."

"What would happen? There would be a regency, I suppose."

"Something like that."

"And you would be the Regent?"

"I expect that is how it would happen. But I should be free. Kollenitz would not want an alliance with a Regent. I daresay they would want Freya to marry the heir."

"The difference in their ages would make that out of the question."

"They would not be greatly concerned with such matters. There have been more incongruous marriages for the sake of the state. Suppose she were some ten years older, that would not be considered a deterrent. After all, I am eight years older than Freya. But we are wasting time on suppositions which are wide of the mark. We have to accept what is. I shall have to go through with this ceremony with Freya. I shall have to get an heir. When that is done, so is my duty. But I am not letting you go, Pippa—never, never, never. If you ran away I should come after you. I would scour the whole of England—the whole of the world—and bring you back."

"Against my will?"

"Dear, dear Pippa, it would never be against your will. All your resolutions would crumble away when we were together. Haven't we proved that twice?"

"I am weak ... foolish ... immoral... I see that."

"You are gentle, loving and adorable."

"You have no right to tempt me."

"I have the right of true love."

"What a fool I am! I almost believe you."

"You are foolish not to believe me entirely."

"Is it really so, then?"

"You know."

"I believe I do. We are two people caught up in an unusual situation. I wonder if it has ever happened before."

"It happened to your own sister," he said. "Not exactly the same ... but Rudolph could not have married her."

"Why not?"

"Because he was destined for Freya."

"But he had never gone through that betrothal ceremony which was tantamount to marriage."

"It is true. But he knew he must not marry without the approval of the Grand Duke's ministers. Darling, forget it. Make the best of what we have. I promise you it will be a great deal."

"I must go now. It is late."

"Only if you promise that we will meet again soon. I want to show you the house we shall have. I want you to come here tomorrow night. Will you do that?"

"I cannot. How can I get away like this? It will be noticed. Freya will suspect."

"I shall be here tomorrow at the same time. Dearest Pippa, please come."

I put on my things and he came out with me almost to the castle gates. The guards looked at me oddly, and I wished I could still the wild, exultant happiness which enveloped me, swamping my fears.

I did not know how I was going to face Freya. If she talked about Sigmund I should be very much afraid that I would betray myself. She was observant and she knew me so well. She would surely guess something had happened.

Strangely enough there was a change in Freya since we had come to the schloss. She seemed to have become older, more withdrawn, obsessed with herself. Before, I believed she would have immediately noticed that my behaviour was a little unusual.

Fraulein Kratz had recognized the change in her.

"She is quite inattentive at her lessons," she complained. "I think coming here and seeing the Baron again and realizing what the future holds has turned her head."

"It is enough to turn anyone's head."

"She will not concentrate on anything for long and she is continually cancelling her lessons. It is very hard to exert one's authority. What do you think, Fraulein Ayres?"

"It is different in my case. It is not like a set lesson. We just talk English. We don't have to sit and study books, although I do like her to read in English."

"I suppose one must accept it."

"I should, Fraulein Kratz, and in any case it does give you a little free time."

She admitted this was so. The same thing applied to me— which, to my relief, I found that very afternoon.

I saw her briefly for the midday meal. She was dressed for riding and looked very pretty in a light navy habit which set off her fairness to perfection.

"I am going riding this afternoon, Anne," she said. "I daresay you will want to do the same or go into the town."

"Whatever you wish, of course."

"Oh no ... not that. I can't go with you. I have to go with Tatiana and Gunther."

My heart leaped with pleasure, for this would give me a little time to carry out a plan of my own.

"I hope you enjoy it," I said.

"I'm sorry you can't come with us."

"Of course I understand. Enjoy your ride."

She threw her arms round my neck. "Have a pleasant afternoon, dear Anne."

"I will amuse myself."

"And well talk a lot in English ... tomorrow or the next day."

I went to my room and put on my riding habit. It was early afternoon when I set out for the forest.

The plan had come to me when I had awakened that morning. I was going to see the woman who had tidied Francine's grave. I had the strong conviction that she knew something and if she did I must find out what it was. I had been very interested in the child. Why not? It was a wild supposition, but at least his name was Rudolph. Why should a boy of four be made to kneel at a stranger's grave? What if that little Rudolph was the child of whom Francine had written to me? If I could prove that Francine had been truly married, if I could find her child, then that little boy would be heir to the Duchy. He would come before Conrad. I saw now that when I had come to Bruxenstein to solve the riddle of my sister's life and death here, I might also have been finding a solution to my own problem.

Perhaps my imagination was working too strongly; perhaps I was looking for too much simplification. I could but try; and I was going to with all the ingenuity I possessed.

As I rode through the forest past Gisela's house to the hunting lodge I was thinking of the previous evening, of Conrad, the wild demanding passion that consumed us both and robbed us of all awareness of everything else. How could I, who had always considered myself to be a fairly honourable sort of person, allow myself to be carrying on this passionate affair with the affianced husband of my pupil? I could not understand myself. I seemed different from the Philippa Ewell I had known all my life. I only knew that I must be with him. I must give way; I wanted above everything else to please him, to be with him forever.

I tethered the horse in the usual spot and walked round the lodge, past the grave and towards Katia's house.

As I came into the thicker part of the forest just past the lodge, I heard the sound of a horse's hoofs. I stepped back from the rather narrow path and waited for the horse and rider to pass me.

It was a man and strangely enough he looked familiar to me.

He stared at me as he passed. He was walking the horse as he must along this bridle path. He inclined his head in a form of greeting and I responded. Then I passed on, wondering where I could possibly have seen him before. People came in and out of the schloss. Perhaps he was employed there.

In any case my mind was too full of other matters for me to waste my thoughts on a mere stranger. I came to the house. It looked quiet. Deliberately I opened the gate. I was on a porch in which potted plants grew. There was a knocker, so I knocked.

Silence and then the sound of footsteps. The door opened and Katia stood there. She stared at me in surprise, not immediately recognizing me as the woman who had asked the way.

I had rehearsed what I was going to say and I said it.

"I wonder if I can speak with you. There is something very important I have to ask you. Will you allow me to?" She looked bewildered and I went on, "Please ... it is very important to me."

She stepped back and opened the door wider. "I have seen you before," she said.

"Yes. The other day. I asked for directions."

She smiled. "Ah ... I remember now. Please come in."

I stepped inside the hall, noticing how clean and polished everything was. She opened a door and we entered a pleasant room, simply but comfortably furnished.

"Please sit down," she said.

I did so. "I realize this may seem very strange," I said.

"But I am very interested in the grave of the lady who was murdered with Baron Rudolph."

"Oh?" She was faintly alarmed. "Why ... why do you ask me?"

"Because you knew her well. You were fond of her. You look after the grave. You take the little boy there and you clearly respected her."

"I take my little boy with me because I could not leave him behind. He is sleeping now. It is the only time I have to do anything in the house."

"Please tell me about your friendship with the lady who was murdered."

"May I ask why you are interested?"

it was my turn to hesitate. Then I made a sudden decision, because I saw it was the only way in which I could hope to get the information I wanted so badly. I said, "I am her sister."

She was quite taken aback. She just stared at me in astonishment. I waited for her to speak, then she said, "Yes, I knew she had a sister ... Pippa. She spoke of her so—lovingly."

Those simple words touched me deeply and I felt my lips trembling and the words began to rush out, "You understand then. You know why I must—"

I saw at once that I should have discovered nothing of importance but for the fact that I had told her who I was, for the relationship between us had changed suddenly.

I went on: "I saw you tending the grave. I saw you and the little boy kneel together. I knew then that you had loved my sister. That was why I decided to talk to you."

"I did not really believe you had lost your way," she said. "I knew there was something."

"I believe my sister was truly married to Rudolph."

She lowered her eyes. "They said she was not. They said she was his mistress."

"Nevertheless there is proof somewhere... ."

She was silent.

"Tell me about her. She lived here in the lodge, didn't she? You must have been a near neighbour."

"It was her home. You see, she could not be received at the schloss. The Baron had his duties. He came when he could. He came often. They were very much in love and she was such a happy person. She laughed all the time. I never saw her sad. She accepted the position. I am sure the Baron Rudolph escaped to her whenever he could."

"Tell me how you knew her."

"My father was alive then. He and my brother were in the employment of the Graf von Bindorf, as most people are hereabouts, either with the Graf or in the household of the Grand Duke. My brother Herzog is still with the Graf. He goes on missions for him. He is not here very often."

"Yes," I prompted.

"A terrible thing happened to me. It was in the forest. I was young and innocent, you understand. It was terrible. Nobody could know unless it happened to them. There was a man. I think he had watched me for some time ... because I had sometimes fancied I was being followed. And then one day ... it was dusk ..." She paused and looked straight ahead, reliving the horror, I imagined. "He was one of the guards at the Grand Schloss. He caught me and dragged me through the trees and then ..."

"He raped you."

She nodded. "I was so frightened. I knew he was one of the guards ... I thought they would not believe me ... so I said nothing. It was like a nightmare and I thought it was over and I must forget ... But then ... I found I was to have a child."

"I am so sorry for you."

"It is over now. These things fade. I do not think of it so much now. It is talking of it brings it back. My father was a very religious man, you understand? When he knew, he was horrified, and ..." Her face puckered and I could see in her the poor defenceless girl she must have been at that time. "They didn't believe me," she went on. "They said I was a harlot, that I had brought shame on the family. They turned me out."