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rewarded with a smile and a quick kiss as

Danielleprepared to leave. "Bless you, Molly. I don't know how you put up withme."

The statement made no sense at all to the servant who set about tidyingthe room in the knowledge that no one could have a better position thanhers. The countess was generous to a fault, never unjust and,

onoccasion, treated Molly as she would a best friend.

*  *  *

But Danielle was miserable. However much she tried to deny it,Beatrice's words had sown the seeds of doubt in a trusting soul. Justinhad told her about Edward Mainwairing and it had not occurred to her toquestion the truth of his explanation. It did not do so now, but like abee sting embedded in her flesh,

the thought throbbed—if he is spending so much time with the woman whohad been his lover for five long years, how could he resist thetemptation? Society would regard the infidelity with a benign eye.Danielle's intolerance, on the other hand, would be heavily censured.She was a wife only—the property of her-husband with no rights, eitherlegal or personal. And she should be grateful that she was not abused,not required to account for every penny spent, not treated with theindifference her lord might accord a chair or a piece of china.Danielle, growing up in the male-oriented house of de St. Varennes,knew the pain and indignity callously inflicted on her sex withoutretribution or concern. And this London society was no better; morehypocritical, if anything, since such cruelties occurred in private,were privately condoned under the blind eye of a woman's lot.

Danielle saw pitying glances now wherever she went, eyes hastilyaverted as she came into a room, voices suddenly lowered or raised inbright small talk at her approach. She tried to ignore them, tried topersuade herself that they were a product of her overactiveimagination, but the poison seeped into her pores. She had been toofull of joy and love in the very early days of her marriage torecognize the barely concealed signs of envy, and was now unable torecognize the pleasurable malice as Society saw a minute crack in thefabric of the Linton's marriage and proceeded to take hammer and chiselto create a yawning crevice.

The Earl of Linton was seen going in and out of the house on Half MoonStreet at all hours of the day and night and the little de St. Varennescould lose her complacence and join the ranks. How could aneighteen-year-old chit expect to hold the interest of athirty-five-year-old who had been on the town for seventeen years? Thesooner she gave Linton an heir and settled down in resignation, thehappier she would be. A nursery full of brats would keep her occupiedand take her mind off such frivolous nonsense as a love match.

Danielle struggled in grim silence. She was as bright and cheerful asever, publicly as happy in her husband's company as always. Only inprivate did Justin notice the withdrawal which was almost alwaysfollowed by a passionate hunger that for a while slaked his growingunease. His brat was growing up, he toldhimself firmly whenever she had a reason for not participating in atreat he had planned, or preferred to take tea with a group ofmatrons rather than ride with him. It was right that she should doso, cease

to be the giddy exuberant girl; his outrageous brat of thesharp tongue and quick impulses. But in the constant presence ofDanielle, Justin missed Danny.

*  *  *

It was a beautiful April night when the last nail hammered into thecoffin and Danielle gave up the pretense. She had retreated, overlyfull of lemonade, to the retiring room at Almack's where she was in theprocess of wrestling with her skirts and the commode behind a workedscreen, when two elderly dowagers entered the room to collapse on asofa before the open window and fan themselves and, incidentally, thesmoldering fires of Danielle's confusion.

"Pon my soul, Almera, but I was like to swoon when I heard news ofthat marriage." The dowager duchess of Avonley tried to adjust herstays, which were pinching like the devil. "Just fancy Linton takesthe mother as mistress and the daughter to wife. I wonder whether itwas the Rockford or the de St. Varennes that appealed." She wheezedwith laughter and Danielle froze behind the screen.

"Louise was beautiful." Lady Almera sighed in fond reminiscence. "Shehad not an easy time of it with the de St. Varennes. No one could blameher for taking pleasure when it came."

"Nor young Linton." The dowager fanned herself vigorously. "D'ye thinkthe child knows, Almera?"

"Linton's a man of sense," her companion answered as if such a questionwere ridiculous. "What's it to the chit, anyway?"

"Why nothing, of course. She cannot expect a man seventeen years olderthan herself to be without a past . . . but her own mother! 'Tismonstrous amusing, Almera, d'ye not think?"

Clearly Lady Almera did, judging by the cackle of laughter that reachedDanielle, rigid behind the screen. She straightened her skirts and withhead held high moved into the room. "Good evening, your grace, LadyAlmera." She paused for a moment to check her coiffure in the mirror,threw them both a tinysmile, and returned to the ballroom.

"Jules, I do not feel quite the thing. Will you escort me home?" Therequest was whispered but none the less urgent and Lord Julian lookedat his cousin-in-law with concern.

"Immediately. Do you have the headache?"

"A little." She smiled wanly. "It is too hot, Jules."

"Devilish hot," he agreed. Since when had Danny found a ballroom to betoo hot? "I will procure your carriage."

When he set her down outside Linton House she refused his escortinside, pleading the headache that she must instantly take to bed andJulian, perforce, was obliged to agree. It was but eleven and Lintonwould not return for some time. He had said he was dining with friendsbut Danielle, in a world turned topsy-turvey, no longer knew what tobelieve. It was rumored

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