"The truth about what?"

"Again, I'm not certain, my lord. It had something to do with Miss Laurent, because I heard her name spoken."

"But you're certain Ivers threatened to blackmail my grandfather?"

"It seemed that way. His lordship was so enraged, he had the footmen throw the earl out of the house. Ivers never called again, to my knowledge. I am not surprised that he has fallen under suspicion now, though. I always thought he would come to a bad end."

"Thank you, Mr. Butner. You have been a great deal of help."

Once the elderly secretary had gone, Dare sat unmoving, trying to grapple with the fear hovering in the back of his mind. Had his grandfather actually hired Ivers to spoil his betrothal? And had Ivers held the threat of being hanged for treason over Julienne's head?

Dare felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Had he somehow mistaken the situation regarding her relationship with Ivers that day? If he could set his jealousy aside for a rational moment, he would have to admit that even before the secretary's revelation just now, he'd begun to question their alliance. In Newmarket Julienne had seemed to regard Ivers with an enmity bordering on loathing.

Was that because Ivers had abandoned her all those years ago? They had been lovers then, hadn't they? Dare had seen it with his own eyes, heard the admission from Julienne's own lips.

His gut churning with unease, Dare rose to call for his carriage. He needed to speak to someone who had greater knowledge of Julienne and what might have happened that long-ago summer.

Famous for its oysters, the small seaport of Whitstable boasted several excellent inns, two dozen shops, and a minor shipyard. The town hadn't changed much in the years since his last visit, nor apparently had the hat shop where his life had been turned upside down.

Stepping from the carriage, Dare stood outside the door of the millinery, hesitating. He had hopes of finding the sales clerk who had been in Julienne's employ, but his skin felt suddenly cold and clammy with apprehension at what he might discover. He had to force himself to open the shop door and enter.

Memories rushed in on him all at once, reflections of the last time he'd been here…

He'd thought it odd to find the millinery empty and unlocked, with no sign of Julienne or the girl she employed as a clerk. Hearing voices coming from the floor overhead, he'd climbed the stairs to the large room above the shop that was used for storage and sewing and occasionally as sleeping quarters.

Julienne sat on the cot, her disheveled hair spilling from its pins, while the Earl of Ivers stood beside the bed, hovering over her. When she spied Dare, she clutched a hand to her heart.

She looked dismayed to see him-although no more dismayed than he felt, seeing her with his rival in such an intimate setting.

Ivers's expression remained cool, however, as he rested a hand possessively on her shoulder. "Clune…I am glad you have come. Julienne has something she wishes to tell you."

Unwillingly Dare shifted his attention to the earl. His first impulse was to strangle the man with his bare hands for daring to touch Julienne-

"Tell him, my dear," Ivers urged.

"Tell me what?" Dare demanded, his anger welling to dangerous heights.

"She intends to end your betrothal," Ivers said when Julienne remained silent. He squeezed her shoulder. "Isn't that right, my dear?"

For a moment she shut her eyes. Then with a slow, shuddering breath, she stiffened her shoulders and raised her gaze to Dare's. "Yes. I no longer wish to marry you, Dare."

A sharp hollowness clawed at the pit of his stomach, while his mouth suddenly felt filled with sawdust. "What the devil are you talking about?"

"I… You never told me your grandfather would disown you if you wed me."

Dare stood frozen, staring at her as he tried to comprehend the import of her words. Did she care so much about the Wolverton fortune after all?

Watching his face, Julienne reached a trembling hand out to him. "Dare… I cannot marry you."

As if to comfort her, Ivers patted her shoulder. "I regret that you had to discover the truth this way, Clune, but it is better that you finally know. Julienne has always been mine. I enjoyed her favors long before you did."

His breath seizing in his lungs, Dare found he couldn't move. Every muscle in his body was paralyzed by shock and disbelief.

"Julienne?" The raw word finally scraped from his throat. "It isn't true."

Fleetingly she glanced up at Ivers, then lowered her gaze to stare at the floor. "I am sorry," she whispered hoarsely.

Ivers smiled in triumph, while turmoil rocked Dare. He staggered backward, recoiling as if struck by a blow. He'd expected her to denounce Ivers's sickening claim, not to uphold it.

His rival's exultant voice pierced the tumult of his thoughts. "It has been difficult for me, keeping quiet all this time while you courted her, Clune. But Julienne insisted that I stay out of her way. Fortunately she decided that if you are to lose your inheritance, she prefers me to you."

Reeling, Dare focused on Ivers, seeing the revolting smirk on his dark face… the blood coming from his split lower lip.

With a wry smile, Ivers reached up to gingerly touch his wound. "She does enjoy rough play, as I'm sure you know."

His gut heaving, Dare abruptly backed away and stumbled from the room, too stricken even to think of calling Ivers out. He felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest…

Feeling his head spin now, Dare pressed a hand to his temple. Had he been too swift to condemn Julienne? She hadn't refuted Ivers's claim, certainly. What words had she used precisely? I am sorry. He had taken that for an admission of guilt…

Dear God, could he have been so wrong? Had she been a victim all along? Or was it his memory now that was at fault? It had happened so long ago. And his own devastation might have led his recollections of that cataclysmic event to change over the years-

"My Lord Wolverton?" A grim female voice interrupted his churning thoughts. "May I be of assistance?"

Dare looked up to find a dark-haired woman perhaps in her mid-twenties standing in a corner near the counter, adding a plume to a bonnet. Her rather plump face seemed vaguely familiar.

"Do you know me?" he asked, frowning.

Her expression remained grave. "Yes, my lord. You were once my mistress's suitor. I could never forget you."

For an instant Dare saw a flash of something like antipathy flash in her blue eyes. Puzzled, he advanced farther into the shop. "You were Miss Laurent's sales clerk seven years ago."

"Yes… Rachel Grimble. I am now the proprietor."

Her antipathy was clearer now. Her tone held none of the deference a shopkeeper usually showed a nobleman of his consequence. Rather it held contempt.

"You seem to hold me in dislike, Miss Grimble."

"I have good reason, my lord-because of what you did to Miss Laurent. Or perhaps I should say, what you did not do."

"I trust you mean to explain?"

"You allowed the wolves to devour her."

Dare's eyebrows narrowed to a frown. "That tells me little."

"You left her at the mercy of that beast. I found her…" The shopkeeper took a deep breath. "Miss Laurent had sent me to deliver a commission, and when I returned… Lord Ivers had just driven away." The woman glanced toward the back of the millinery where the stairs were. "He had violated her, my lord."

Air hissed sharply between Dare's teeth; his gut clenched as if a knife had been plunged into him.

With sudden brutal clarity he recalled the blood on Ivers's lip, an injury the earl had claimed was due to Julienne's preference for rough play.

Oh, God. His heart thundered while a wave of horror crashed through his mind.

"He forced himself upon her," the Grimble woman repeated, twisting the knife further. "You didn't know?"

"No…" Dare whispered, the word a raw rasp. "I never knew. Perhaps I should have."

"Aye, I think you should have. He was a beast, but you… She loved you, my lord, and you abandoned her."

Raising a hand to his head, Dare clutched at his hair. Understanding nearly brought him to his knees; the violent reality of it was paralyzing.

He had fled Kent that very afternoon, too intent on his own bleeding wounds to question the fate of the beautiful deceiver who had savaged his heart. He had kept away for years, forcibly attempting to shut out even the slightest thought of Julienne.

The shopkeeper merely stood there, not speaking, her silence eloquent with condemnation while Dare grappled with the enormity of his transgression.

"Why in God's name didn't she tell me?" he said after a time.

"I don't know, my lord. I wanted to go to you. I thought you would somehow protect her, even after… what Lord Ivers did to her. But she wouldn't let me. I think she must have been too ashamed." Miss Grimble's tone hardened. "That was not the worst of it, either. Lord Wolverton made certain her reputation was utterly destroyed by rumors of treason. No one would give her business any longer, and the scandal nearly killed her mother. Miss Laurent was forced to leave town. His lordship drove her away. And by then you were long gone."

Dare couldn't speak. There was nothing he could say, no apology he could make to excuse his ignorance or his actions.

Turning, he blindly made his way out to his carriage. Self-contempt stuck in his throat, hot and thick, as he fell back against the squabs of the landau.