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go. She immediately moved it to her lap. He pretended not to notice and turned to Jamie.
    “I have asked your mother to address me as Michael, and I would ask the same of you.”
    Jamie looked at him in astonishment. “Truly, sir?”
    “We are cousins. Family. It is appropriate and not at all improper.” We may well be father and son . No son of his would be required to address him as my lord.
    “Thank you, Michael. Does this mean we are friends?”
    His shy smile went straight to Michael’s heart. The boy was slaying him. A barely discernable noise much like a sniffle sounded to his right. He turned in time to see Diana her press trembling lips together.

Chapter Five
    How had she never thought of how lonely Jamie must have been? Her son was everything to her and somehow she had thought she could be everything to him. When Leo was away, which was often, thank you God, she had dedicated her days to Jamie. She taught him to read, taught him how to use his imagination so that the toys Leo denied him wouldn’t be missed, and she had loved him with all that she was. When Leo was home, she did her best to keep his attention on her so he wouldn’t turn his cruelties onto their child.
    Jamie’s pleasure in having a friend in Michael made her realize how much he needed the regard of a man. She would not fight against this new step Michael had taken, but said a prayer that he would not end up disappointing her son.
    “Diana?”
    She pressed her lips together and willed down her tears. My God, she had come closer to crying these past two days than in all her miserable years with Leo. A large hand rested on her shoulder for a brief moment, its touch oddly comforting.
    “Are you all right?”
    She nodded. “I’m fine, Michael.”
    How easily her mind had slipped into thinking of him as Michael. His attention returned to Jamie, giving her the opportunity to observe him. In the three days they had been together, she had not seen the coldness or cunning in his eyes that she had grown used to seeing in Leo’s. Or, the watchfulness that had been so unnerving. Leo had always watched her, waiting for the slightest mistake on her part.
    Michael claimed he didn’t care if she spilled her wine, or even if she threw her bread at the wall. She didn’t believe him. She eyed the bread and had the urge to test his words. If he didn’t beat her for her daring, then she might, only might, start to trust him. There was a scratch in the paint on the wall behind Jamie’s head, something to aim for. Her hand crept toward the basket of bread.
    “Did you want some, Diana?”
    She snatched her hand back and shook her head at the man intently watching her. He glanced at the wall, then tilted his head and studied her. A slow, far too amused grin formed on his face.
    “Hmm.” He picked up a piece of bread. “Now, Jamie, this is not going to be a common occurrence at the dinner table, mind you, but did you know tonight is special?”
    “No, sir.”
    “Michael, please. It is the one night of the year when we throw our bread at the wall.” With that, he threw his over Jamie’s head, then handed Jamie one. “Now you.”
    Jamie laughed. The seldom heard sound was music to her ears. He turned in his chair and threw his bread. He looked back at Michael with such adoration in his eyes that she marked the exact moment Michael became her son’s hero. Michael picked up another slice and handed it to her. She stared at the bread in her hand, her heart beating furiously in her chest.
    “Go on,” Michael said.
    “Do it, Mama,” Jamie urged.
    She looked at Michael once more to make sure she didn’t see any trickery in his eyes and then threw her bread. A tiny burst of laughter escaped and she slapped her hand over her mouth. Jamie giggled and Michael gave her a smile of approval. A sliver of the fear that had held her captive for eleven long years fell away.
    Michael turned to the footman. “John, would you please pick up the bread that seems to