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as ebony.
    “Byron, it seems you always appear at the most inopportune moments.” Arrogance clearly stamped Sir Robert’s coarse features. “Mary and I were discussing affairs of the most personal.”
    Stunned by Sir Robert’s audacious claim, she took a slight step back and held her breath. Richard shrugged, almost carelessly, she thought, and strolled toward them. He pinched her chin familiarly and turned a smile of deadly friendliness upon Sir Robert.
    “I see. You were discussing Mary’s father’s debts to you. Really, sir, you needn’t fear. There are no secrets between my betrothed and I.” His hand stole about her waist, staking his claim upon her in no uncertain terms. “Do you have the notes with you?”
    Sir Robert’s stunned face showed clearly that he was as shocked by Richard’s actions as she was. “I don’t carry them about with me!”
    “Then let us arrange a time when you will. Say five days from now. At one in the afternoon. We will meet here and discuss the situation. Like gentlemen.” Contempt dripped in Richard’s final words.
    The close, rose-scented air of the cozy parlor sparked with the tension between the two men. Lottie looked from one to the other, as if a duel might be fought then and there. Unable to bear it a moment longer, Mary stepped between them, throwing what she hoped was a beguiling smile up into Sir Robert’s scowling face.
    “It was lovely to see you again. I shall look forward to your next visit, when all will be set to rights.” She hoped her mild dismissal would diffuse the situation. A certain glint in his eyes warned her a heartbeat before he captured her hand, lifting it palm up to his lips.
    “I am, as always, your devoted servant, my dear Mary,” he murmured with deliberate warmth.
    Annoyed more than revolted, she refused to react. Only after Lottie shut the front door behind him did she turn slowly to confront her supposed intended.
    His long mouth twisted sardonically. He crossed the room to stare out the window as Sir Robert rode away. “You may not want my help, Mary, but I insist on giving it. That is not a man I want my future wife to be indebted to.”
    His concern burned through her to multiply her treachery tenfold. “I can’t allow it, Richard.” She had to protest. “Besides, I don’t see any way out of it.”
    “Of course there is!” He took a step closer. “Two mares are about to foal. They should bring a pretty penny, for their lines are good. Not the bloodlines we will have once Wildfire sires—” His genuine laughter, the first she’d ever heard, rang through the parlor. “Wildfire! My stallion’s name is Wildfire!”
    His delight suddenly made him look like a young boy.
    “Do you remember anything else?” she laughed with him, caught up in his joy.
    Pacing the square faded oriental carpet where only the threads of blue still held their hue, Richard rubbed long fingers at his temples.
    “Your uncle reminds me of a man named Jeffries. Now I remember he taught me to ride. Taught me everything I know about horseflesh. He was killed. In the colonies.”
    Shaking his head, he stopped, a furrow of pain marring his brow as he turned back to her. “That’s all I can remember. But it’s a beginning.”
    He stepped in front of her, placing one caressing hand on her shoulder while the other lifted her chin between a thumb and forefinger. “Soon I’ll remember everything. I look forward to that, Mary. Particularly I look forward to my memories of you.”
    The shock of his touch on her face was as powerful, no, more so than it had been the first time. It suspended rational thought; every feeling ceased except the hot stirrings through her veins and the heavy load of guilt around her heart. It was a lethal combination to her burdened soul, his touch and the vulnerable questing gaze with which he searched her face, as if she were a precious puzzle he must solve.
    She knew exactly what she was—a liar and a cheat!
    Moving away from