"What makes you think I have any more control over this than you do?" he muttered. He pulled her close, hugging her to his strong body, and she shivered as immeasurable relief flooded her. Ross knew the truth, and he had not rejected her. This fact was difficult for her mind to encompass. She buried her face in his coat, which held a trace of tobacco from the smoke-filled billiards room.

He cradled her gently. "Those feelings you've carried with you for years...it won't be easy to let them go."

"They're already gone." Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder. "All this time I wanted revenge against someone who didn't exist. You are nothing like the man I expected you to be."

"Portly and old, with a wig and a pipe," he said, recalling what she had said the first day they met.

Sophia smiled wearily. "You have ruined my plan every step of the way by making it impossible for me not to care for you."

The statement seemed to bring Ross no pleasure. "What if it turns out that I did indeed send your brother to his death?" His eyes were dark and troubled. "When I became a member of the judiciary ten years ago, I had no practical experience. For a while I modeled my judgments after those of the magistrates who had gone before me. I thought it best to follow the procedures they had already initiated. It was only later that I heeded my own instincts and began to run the court as I wished. I have no doubt that I was too harsh on many of the defendants who came before me in those early days." His deep chest moved with a taut sigh. "Even so, I cannot fathom that I would have sent a mere pickpocket to a prison hulk."

Sophia was helplessly silent.

His fingertips traced gently over the slender wings of her eyebrows. "I have never allowed myself to wish that I could change the past. Such thoughts are futile, and the regrets would drive me insane. But this is the first time that my entire future has hung in the balance, depending on some mistake I may have made years ago." He raised himself on one elbow, a swath of dark hair falling over his forehead as he looked down at her.

"How can I ask you to forgive me for your brother's death? There is no way I could atone for it. But the thought of losing you is something I can't endure."

"I have already forgiven you," she whispered. "I know what kind of man you are. You punish yourself far more harshly than anyone else could. Besides, how could I withhold my forgiveness when you have offered yours so freely?"

He shook his head with a rueful smile. "Whatever your original intentions were, you've done nothing but take care of me."

"I was trying to make you fall in love with me," she said. "Then I was going to break your heart."

"I have no objection to the first half of the plan," he informed her dryly. "Though I wouldn't care much for the second half."

A wobbly smile curved her lips. She put her arms around his neck and buried her face against his throat. "Neither would I."

Ross kissed her gently, and it seemed the passion between them was underlaid with an understanding that the path to happiness would not be easy for them. It would require forgiveness, and compromise, and blind trust. Sophia tried to intensify the kiss, but he drew back and clasped her head in his hands.

"I'm not going to stay with you tonight," he murmured, his thumbs stroking her temples. "When we finally sleep together, I don't want there to be any regrets afterward."

"I won't regret anything," Sophia told him earnestly.

"Now I know that you won't blame me for what I tried to do to you. That was what I feared most. Please stay with me tonight."

He shook his head. "Not until I find out the truth about your brother's death. Once we are in possession of all the facts, we can decide what is to be done."

She turned her face against his hand and kissed the warm interior of his palm. "Make love to me. Make me forget every moment of my life before you."

"Oh, God." Ross released her with a savage groan and left the bed as if it were a torture rack. "I want you more than I can bear. Don't make this even more difficult." Sophia knew that she should help him in his resolve, but she couldn't seem to keep herself from saying recklessly, "Come lie with me. We won't sleep together, if that is what you want. Just hold me for a while."

He growled in frustration and headed to the door. "You know what would happen if we tried that. In about five minutes I would have you on your back with your heels in the air."

The crude image caused her stomach to tighten deliciously. "Ross--"

"Lock the door behind me," he muttered, opening the door and crossing the threshold without a backward glance.

After sleeping until late morning, Ross's brother decided to spend the day playing cards at the lakeside pavilion. However, before Matthew was able to exit through the French doors at the rear of the mansion, Ross snared him.

"Hello, Matthew," Ross said pleasantly, resting a hand on his brother's shoulder. As Matthew attempted to pull away, his grip tightened into an unbreakable clamp. "I see you've finally arisen. Why don't you join me in the study? I have a sudden desire for your company."

Matthew stared at him warily. "Perhaps later, brother. I must act as host to my friends. You would not want me to be rude, I'm certain."

Ross gave him a chilling smile. "They can make do without you for a while." His cold gaze swerved to the three young men who had accompanied Matthew. "Proceed with your plans, gentlemen. My brother will join you later." Hauling a protesting Matthew back inside, Ross ushered him down the hall to a private study.

"What the hell is going on?" Matthew demanded, trying without success to pry himself free of Ross's grip. "Dammit, let go--you're ruining my coat!"

"In here," Ross commanded, pushing him inside the study and closing the heavy oak door to afford them some privacy.

Clearly nettled, Matthew made a great show of smoothing his lapels and sleeves.

Ross glanced around the study, which had been left exactly as their father had arranged it. The cozy masculine room was small and lined with oak bookcases. A French drop-leaf table and a writing chair were positioned in front of a trio of windows. Remembering how often he had seen the elder Cannon writing correspondence or poring over account books at that desk, Ross scowled. He could not help feeling that he had failed his father by allowing Matthew to become the spoiled, selfish creature that he was.

Matthew frowned. "You're looking at me as if I'm some cutpurse you're about to dispatch to Newgate."

"Newgate would be a pleasure palace in comparison to the place I'd like to dispatch you to."

Hearing the grim fury in Ross's voice, Matthew heaved a great sigh. "All right, I apologize for last night--I suppose Miss Sydney has offered her version of the story, casting herself as the virtuous victim. And I will admit, I was somewhat the worse for drink. My friend Hatfield had opened a damn fine brandy, and it went to my head." Adopting an air of indifference, Matthew wandered to the well-worn globe in the corner and spun it idly.

"That isn't good enough, Matthew. Yes, I intend to discuss your behavior of last night, but first we will deal with another matter that has presented itself."

Matthew looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I had a meeting with Mr. Tanner this morning."

"Who is Tanner?"

Ross shook his head in annoyance. "Our estate agent. The man who has managed our land and properties for the past ten years."

"And you've already met with him this morning?

Good God, do you ever rest? The last thing I want to discuss is some trivial business matter--"

"It's not trivial," Ross interrupted curtly. "And it doesn't concern business. It appears that one of our tenants has approached Tanner with the complaint that his unmarried daughter is several months pregnant."

Matthew's expression became guarded. "What has that to do with me, if some peasant wench is carrying a bag pudding?"

"Her family claims that you are the father." Ross watched his brother's face closely, and his heart sank as he saw the look of guilt in Matthew's gray-green eyes. A curse escaped his lips. "The family's name is Rann. Did you seduce the girl or not?"

Matthew's face twisted into a surly grimace. "It was not seduction. It was mutual desire. She wanted me, I obliged her, and no one was the worse for it."

"No one was the worse?" Ross repeated incredulously. "Tanner says the girl is not yet sixteen, Matthew! You've taken her innocence and given her a fatherless babe--and betrayed Iona in the process."

Matthew looked unrepentant. "Everyone does it. I could name you a dozen men who have taken their pleasure outside the marriage bed. A bastard child is an unfortunate consequence--but that is the girl's concern, not mine."

Somewhere in the midst of his fury, Ross was shocked at his brother's callousness. It was not lost on him that Matthew had done exactly what Sophia's lover had done to her--used her, deceived and abandoned her. "My God," he said softly. "What am I to do with you? Have you no conscience? No sense of responsibility?"

"Conscience and responsibility are your preserves, brother." Matthew spun the globe again; it nearly teetered off its axis. "You've always been held up to me as an example of supreme morality. Sir Ross, the paragon of manhood. No one on earth could live up to the standards you set, and I'll be damned if I'll even try. Besides, I don't envy you your sterile, joyless life. Unlike you, I have some passion--I have a man's needs--and, by God, I'll indulge them until I'm in my grave!" "Why don't you indulge them in your wife?" Ross suggested acidly.