All too aware of the loneliness that would settle down upon him when they were parted, Ashton sought to persuade her: “Stay with me for a while more. Have dinner with me, and then I’ll take you back later.” She looked at him again almost pleadingly, and he smiled sadly, taking note of her reddened eyes, and relented. “Perhaps I ask too much of you right now. I know you are troubled.” He let his breath out slowly, attempting to cool his mind and body. “I’ll take you back. There’ll be another day when we’ll meet.”

Relieved by his acquiescence, Lenore sniffed and, with her handkerchief, wiped the brimming wetness from her lashes. He knew how to appeal to her senses, and he was so hard to resist, she had found herself in a quandary, wondering if she could. Even now she had difficulty forgetting what had just passed between them and the scalding heat that had seared her hand.

Ashton gave Hickory instructions and, leaning back in the seat again, indulged himself in the pleasure of watching her rather than the scenery they passed. “I’m letting some business associates here in Biloxi borrow the River Witch.” He saw her surprise and explained, “They’re planning a social affair, with all the wealthy people in the area being invited to the gaming tables.” Actually, he had initiated their interest, having seen how well the occasion would fit into his schemes and aid in his advancement toward a lasting seizure of the queen.

Lenore saw the sparkling gleam in his eye and could not resist an inquiry. “What has that to do with me?”

A roguish grin readily showed the contrast between his dark skin and white teeth. “You and Malcolm will be invited, of course.”

“Malcolm will never go on your steamer.” The very idea seemed preposterous. “He hates you too much.”

“Ah, but I’ve been informed that Malcolm is quite fond of the gaming tables and likes the idea of easy money and associating with wealthy people. He doesn’t appear to be as well off as I had first supposed. In fact, it’s rather difficult to decide where he does get his money.”

“I don’t know anything about his work,” she murmured distantly, realizing Malcolm had never made any attempt to inform her of his past, his family, or his activities. “In fact, I don’t know very much about him at all.”

“I’ve had some of my men watch him, and his business dealings seem to radiate from a room above the tavern.”

“You mean”-a blush crept into her cheeks as she sought a delicate way of asking-“he’s keeping company with…purchased ladies?”

Ashton chuckled. “If he were, my love, I wouldn’t be telling you of his indiscretions.” He shook his head as he continued. “No. He meets with other men there, and they’re an unworthy-looking bunch from what my men report. The lot of them usually scatter after the meeting, going off in different directions, and then in a few days they’re back again to meet with Malcolm.”

“When Malcolm leaves the house, he only tells me he’s going to meet with the lawyers, and then he comes back with papers for me to sign.”

“What sort of papers?”

Her slender shoulders lifted briefly. “I don’t know. He’s never let me read them.”

“Have you signed them?” Ashton asked in sudden worry.

“No,” she replied, somewhat confused by his concern. “And I won’t until he lets me read them.”

“That’s a good girl.”

“What do you think they might be?” she queried.

“I don’t know, but if he could, he would have you sign a complaint against me. He’d like nothing better than to see me arrested for Mary’s murder.”

“Who do you think killed her, Ashton?”

“Horace Titch, perhaps.” Ashton shrugged. “Mary used to work for his sister. I really can’t say otherwise. That stretch of land near us is not entirely isolated from the rest of the world, you know. A stranger could have wandered in, seized the girl, and left her in the dinghy after he killed her.”

A shudder went through Lenore. “I never heard anything.”

“The attack on her probably happened while you were out with me, and it frightens me when I think you were on the beach alone about that time.” His eyes fondly traced the delicate profile as he murmured, “Have I thanked you yet for the alibi, madam? I didn’t expect you to tell the sheriff you were with me.”

Lenore stole a timid glance at him. “I couldn’t see saving my reputation and letting you be arrested.”

His finger teased a softly curling wisp that lay against her nape. “Where did you leave your bonnet?”

Surprise touched the lovely visage as she looked up at him. “It was so hot I left it in the carriage, but how…?”

Ashton finished the question for her: “…did I know that you were wearing a bonnet? I saw you leave the house this morning, remember? Besides, I notice everything about you. If I hadn’t seen you with the bonnet on, I would probably have wondered why your hair is a little mussed….”

Suddenly self-conscious, Lenore quickly reached up to repair her coiffure and then realized he was teasing her when he chuckled. Lowering her hands to her lap again, she smiled through a blush as he gently squeezed her arm.

“I’ve seen your hair in wilder disarray, my love, and you have taken my breath away with your beauty.”

Unable to resist his nearness as he laid his arm on the seat behind her, she leaned against his side. “Did you perchance know that I was a widow when Malcolm married me?”

Ashton’s face displayed his astonishment. “You mean Lenore…?”

“Yes, me.” She nodded. “I was married to Cameron Livingston before I married Malcolm.”

“If you ever married Malcolm,” Ashton gently protested.

“Will you ever stop insisting that I’m Lierin?”

“Only when I have irrefutable proof, madam.”

“Lierin Livingston just doesn’t sound right.”

“Lierin was not a widow when I married her.” Shaking his head, he smiled down at her rather roguishly. “She was a virgin when I took her to bed.”

“The same was not true of me when we made love at Belle Chêne,” Lenore murmured, then wished she could recall the words when she realized how inane the statement was. Whether she was Lierin or Lenore, she had come to him as a married woman. The only question was, whose wife?

Ashton chuckled softly as he pressed his lips against her hair. “By then, my love, the damage had already been done. It happened in one single moment, at least three years past, and I can truthfully say that when the sun rose the next morning, we were most definitely man and wife.”

“Comin’ home!” Hickory shouted from up front, and Ashton peered out the window at the gray-blue sea that stretched out across the horizon. Hickory had made good time in bringing them back, and it was a disappointment to both of them. Lenore’s fingers readily snuggled into his as Ashton reached to take her hand.

“Malcolm will be receiving an invitation for the party aboard the River Witch. I’d like you to come. Will you?”

“If it means that much to you, yes.”

“It does…because I’ll want to be with you. And when you see the River Witch leave, don’t be upset. I haven’t left you.”

“I’ll miss seeing her from my balcony.”

A soft chuckle accompanied his reply. “There’ll be another vessel coming in its stead, madam. Just be patient.”

Lenore was truly amazed. “Shouldn’t your boats be trading elsewhere? Aren’t you losing money letting them sit out there idle in the gulf?”

“When a man’s heart is not content, madam, riches mean nothing to him.” Ashton glanced out the window again, fretting because they had so little time left. They were only a short distance from the lane that led up to the house now, and he turned back to her with eyes that burned in anxious appeal. Lenore never really knew if she leaned forward or if he pulled her close, but in the next moment she was pressed hard against him and his lips were moving passionately upon hers. Though brief, the kiss stirred up a whole caldron of cravings, and by the time the landau turned up the lane, they were both beset with a burning need to continue. Lenore was sorry she had bade him return so early. She shivered in longing as his hand came around her side and covered her breast; then he pulled away, and for both it was a difficult struggle to maintain a serene mien. It was a lengthy moment before Ashton managed to subdue the rutting lust and step down. Taking her hand, his fingers squeezed hers and quite properly he helped her down.

They had barely reached the front steps when the portal was flung wide, and Malcolm came striding out, his face dark with rage. Lenore ignored his glare and though she was still very much annoyed with the heavier man, she spoke in a guise of sweetness. “Mr. Wingate was kind enough to bring me home, Malcolm. Wasn’t it nice that I didn’t have to walk?”

Though Malcolm’s hands remained lowered, they clenched into tight, meaty fists, while his eyes fairly flashed with indignation. He loathed the tolerant smile the other man returned to him, and wished he had been able to throttle Ashton right there on the front lawn. “Get in the house.” He tossed the command at Lenore as he jerked his head in that direction. “I’ll talk to you later. Right now, I have something to discuss with Mister Wingate.”

Lenore complied, but upon entering the house, she went into the parlor and stood near the french doors, where she could overhear the exchange. Malcolm was making a valiant effort to control himself, but he was clearly upset with her and Ashton. If the circumstances warranted it, she was ready to throw herself between the two men to halt a violent end to their confrontation.

“Just when in the bloody hell do you intend to leave here?” Malcolm demanded of the other man. “You accost my wife at every turn-”

“Accost whose wife?” A mildly questioning quirk lifted Ashton’s brow.