doing here. He'd known since the first moment he’d learned Liana would be here.
He was set on a course which he could not alter and from which he could not deviate. And if destruction lay in his path, so be it.
He strolled onto the balcony and surveyed the grounds. A woman with a wheat-colored braid down the center of her back caught his attention. "Wait up. Liana!”
Liana turned to look back toward the house and saw Steve hurrying to catch up with her. She sighed. She supposed she’d been lucky to get this far without someone stopping her.
“Hi,” she said to him when he drew even with her. “Haven’t you heard? You’ve got the day off.” He grinned. “I heard, but I made Clay say it to me twice just to be sure.”
She laughed lightly. “So what are you going to do with your unexpected vacation?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” He glanced down at the toes of his aged tennis shoes, then over her shoulders, and finally looked at her. “Listen, Liana, there’s something I want to tell you.”
“Okay,” she said, wondering at his uneasiness. She had known him for about a year now, and normally, Steve was the epitome of an easygoing, self-confident young man.
“It’s about your accident.”
“What accident?” she asked blankly.
“When you fell down the stairway.”
“Oh. Okay, what about it?”
He planted a hand on one narrow jean-clad hip. “Well, I’ve been thinkin g about it. At first I thought I must have inadvertently brushed against the light in some way to make it fall, but now I’m not so sure. I think it’s possible that the light could have been rigged to fall.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why would anyone do that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I checked out the light and one of its legs . . . Well, it just looks possible, that’s all.” He shrugged again. “I felt you needed to be aware that maybe the accident wasn’t an accident after all.”
“That doesn’t make sense. What would anyone gain by causing it to fall? Everyone involved wants this shoot to be a success.”
“That’s true,” he admitted grudgingly.
She lay a hand on his shoulder, “Steve, you need this day off more than I do.”
“Maybe, but do me a favor and be careful. And you might spend some time thinking about who would like to see you hurt. ”
She shook her head. “I don’t have to think. There’s no one.”
“Liana—”
“Steve, I appreciate your concern, but this wonderful place must have your imagination working overtime. I know it does mine.”
He hesitated, then broke into a reluctant grin. “I guess you’re right. Sony, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t. In fact, it makes me feel good that you were worried about me. But enough’s enough. Go have a good time. Lord knows, Clay will work us hard enough tomorrow. ”
“You’re right about that. Okay then, see you later. Just don’t take any more falls. ”
“I promise.”
Liana watched Steve walk back toward the house, then for some unexplainable reason, she lifted her gaze to a third-floor balcony. Richard stood there, watching her.
Her mind went blank, instinct took over. She turned and ran.
Leonora Deverell. Born 1877. Died 1898.
Liana lightly brushed her fingers over the letters, the only decoration on the small, simple, boxlike house that was Leonora Deverell’s crypt. An oversized, heavy-looking concrete urn stood to the left side of the doors, empty. There should be flowers in it, she thought.
She knew from reading various articles on SwanSea that Leonora Deverell had been Swansea’s first mistress, and she seemed to recall that Leonora had been seventeen when she had married the wealthy, powerful Edward Deverell. A year later, her son, John, had been bom. Then three years later, Leonora, after a sudden, brief illness, had died.
“How sad,” she murmured.
“What’s sad?” Richard asked.
She slowly turned, accepting completely that he was there. Running from him would
He was set on a course which he could not alter and from which he could not deviate. And if destruction lay in his path, so be it.
He strolled onto the balcony and surveyed the grounds. A woman with a wheat-colored braid down the center of her back caught his attention. "Wait up. Liana!”
Liana turned to look back toward the house and saw Steve hurrying to catch up with her. She sighed. She supposed she’d been lucky to get this far without someone stopping her.
“Hi,” she said to him when he drew even with her. “Haven’t you heard? You’ve got the day off.” He grinned. “I heard, but I made Clay say it to me twice just to be sure.”
She laughed lightly. “So what are you going to do with your unexpected vacation?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” He glanced down at the toes of his aged tennis shoes, then over her shoulders, and finally looked at her. “Listen, Liana, there’s something I want to tell you.”
“Okay,” she said, wondering at his uneasiness. She had known him for about a year now, and normally, Steve was the epitome of an easygoing, self-confident young man.
“It’s about your accident.”
“What accident?” she asked blankly.
“When you fell down the stairway.”
“Oh. Okay, what about it?”
He planted a hand on one narrow jean-clad hip. “Well, I’ve been thinkin g about it. At first I thought I must have inadvertently brushed against the light in some way to make it fall, but now I’m not so sure. I think it’s possible that the light could have been rigged to fall.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why would anyone do that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I checked out the light and one of its legs . . . Well, it just looks possible, that’s all.” He shrugged again. “I felt you needed to be aware that maybe the accident wasn’t an accident after all.”
“That doesn’t make sense. What would anyone gain by causing it to fall? Everyone involved wants this shoot to be a success.”
“That’s true,” he admitted grudgingly.
She lay a hand on his shoulder, “Steve, you need this day off more than I do.”
“Maybe, but do me a favor and be careful. And you might spend some time thinking about who would like to see you hurt. ”
She shook her head. “I don’t have to think. There’s no one.”
“Liana—”
“Steve, I appreciate your concern, but this wonderful place must have your imagination working overtime. I know it does mine.”
He hesitated, then broke into a reluctant grin. “I guess you’re right. Sony, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t. In fact, it makes me feel good that you were worried about me. But enough’s enough. Go have a good time. Lord knows, Clay will work us hard enough tomorrow. ”
“You’re right about that. Okay then, see you later. Just don’t take any more falls. ”
“I promise.”
Liana watched Steve walk back toward the house, then for some unexplainable reason, she lifted her gaze to a third-floor balcony. Richard stood there, watching her.
Her mind went blank, instinct took over. She turned and ran.
Leonora Deverell. Born 1877. Died 1898.
Liana lightly brushed her fingers over the letters, the only decoration on the small, simple, boxlike house that was Leonora Deverell’s crypt. An oversized, heavy-looking concrete urn stood to the left side of the doors, empty. There should be flowers in it, she thought.
She knew from reading various articles on SwanSea that Leonora Deverell had been Swansea’s first mistress, and she seemed to recall that Leonora had been seventeen when she had married the wealthy, powerful Edward Deverell. A year later, her son, John, had been bom. Then three years later, Leonora, after a sudden, brief illness, had died.
“How sad,” she murmured.
“What’s sad?” Richard asked.
She slowly turned, accepting completely that he was there. Running from him would
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