gripping the wheel. Waves crashed over the bow as it ploughed
through the water. Dark hair blew in the wind, while the
man balanced with ease, his head thrown back in laughter,
almost daring Mother Nature to do her worst.
Rosalind frowned. How did she fi nd out if Justin really
was Hawk? Th
e man she knew as Hawk wore a mask and his
hair appeared dark. Justin had blond hair and had no reason
to hate Lucien.
Th
e path narrowed and Justin ushered Rosalind in front
of him. Th
e vision dissolved when she let go of his arm, leav-
ing Rosalind with more questions than answers.
Up ahead, the path widened into a clearing. Surrounded
by trees, the grassy area reminded Rosalind of an island in
the middle of the sea. She met Justin’s gaze. He smiled. Th
ere
was no guile in the smile, just pleasure at being on an outing
with friends. Had she made a mistake?
“Lady Rosalind,” Helena’s mother called. “Would you
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help Helena set out the tables and chairs while I direct the
servants with the food? I want them to take particular care
with the cherry tarts so they don’t spoil. Perhaps, if you fi nish
before me you can direct them to set out the meats and pies.
Justin, there are more people to come. Perhaps you could wait
and direct them to the picnic site?”
Both Justin and Charles strode off with alacrity. Rosa-
lind dithered, not wanting to go anywhere near Lady Helena
at the moment, not when her temper strained so close to the
surface, but there would be no gainsaying Lady Jessica. Th
e
woman’s softly voiced words were cloaked in steel. When
Lady Jessica’s brows drew together, Rosalind nodded acquies-
cence and strolled over to Lady Helena.
“I don’t need your help,” Lady Helena whispered in a
fi erce tone when Rosalind joined her. She stuck her nose into
the air and turned her back on Rosalind in a pointed snub.
“Gerald, set the tables there and there. Place the chairs and
blankets beneath the tree on the bank of the stream. Are you
still here?” she demanded rudely.
Irritation fl ashed through Rosalind. She’d never done
anything to incur Lady Helena’s wrath. Nothing. Yet, the
woman had treated her like an imposter from the moment of
their fi rst meeting.
“Well?” Lady Helena snapped.
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Rosalind wasn’t sure if the remark was intended for her or
the servants. Th
e servants weren’t sure either and cast uneasy
glances at Helena before her glare had them rushing to carry
out her instructions. Rosalind took the opportunity to move
closer. She grabbed Lady Helena’s forearm and held it tightly.
Lady Helena’s thoughts came through loud and clear, bom-
barding Rosalind with their viciousness. Th
e woman wanted
Lucien and she intended to get him, by fair means or foul.
Colorless sparrow, Helena thought. She is nothing.
Right! Th
at was it. Rosalind didn’t need to listen to
Helena’s insulting thoughts. “Lucien is mine,” Rosalind said
in a low undertone, letting go of Helena’s arm so she broke
the connection. Anger throbbed between them. “Lucien is
my husband and will remain my husband, no matter what
accidents you arrange for me.”
“You’re a witch,” Lady Helena snapped.
“I notice you’re not denying anything.” Rosalind scanned
the clearing to see if any of the servants or guests were watch-
ing them. To her relief, the servants were now otherwise
engaged in setting out the tables and food while the guests
studied the stream, looking for trout. “I know you paid the
dark-haired maid to frighten me away.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Th
e surge of color to Helena’s cheeks told Rosalind the
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truth. “She’s admitted ruining my clothes and pushing me
down the stairs.”
Lady Helena narrowed her eyes, a smile of triumph curv-
ing her lips. “You can’t prove it.”
e maid has confessed. She said you paid
her to frighten me off . She’s willing to swear to it. Did you
tell her about the secret passage?” Th
e maid hadn’t confessed,
of course. Not yet, but that wasn’t going to stop Rosalind
from wringing the truth from Lady Helena. “And, I believe
the men you paid to shoot at Mary and I while we were out
walking will also confess. Did you pay a footman or a stable
lad to shove me over the cliff , to place wasps under the pony’s
harness? Admit it. I know you paid the maid to push me
down the stairs. She told me.”
“What secret passages? I don’t know what you’re talking
about. Besides, Lucien won’t believe you. As soon as he’s free
from your clutches, he’ll marry me.”
“Th
at’s not what he said last night in our chamber.”
Rosalind couldn’t help but feel a trace of smugness. She re-
lived the sensual feel of his calloused hand when he touched
her bare shoulder, her breasts, and savored the truth. Lucien
loved her — his wife. Rosalind knew it even if he wasn’t
aware of the fact.
“He won’t have anything to do with you when he learns
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
you’re a witch.”
Rosalind snorted. “If I were a witch, I’d make a wart
grow on the tip of your nose. He’s heard the rumors and
thinks they are nonsense.”
“But, everyone says you’re a witch.” Helena sounded be-
wildered. Unsure.
“Because that’s what you’ve told them. You’re jealous. You
see yourself as lady of St. Clare.” Th
e sour expression on Lady
Helena’s face told Rosalind she was right, and she pushed her
advantage. “You will never, ever be in that position.”
“You don’t even share a bed with Lucien,” Lady Helena
said smugly.
“Are you sure about that?” Rosalind murmured, raising her
brows. She allowed a smirk of triumph to form on her lips.
Lady Helena’s gaze snapped to Rosalind’s. Indecisiveness
played across her features. “But . . .”
“Our private relationship is none of your business,”
Rosalind snapped. “But I’ll tell you this. Lucien and I are
husband and wife — in every way.”
Th
e color bleached from Helena’s face. “Th
at’s not true,”
she whispered.
“It won’t be long before we have a child.” Rosalind knew
she was being petty, forcing the truth down Lady Helena’s
throat, but the woman deserved it for her treachery. “Stay
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away from Lucien, Lady Helena, or I will press charges. Th
e
local magistrate will take a dim view of the matter. Your
reputation will be ruined.” Without another word, Rosalind
turned away and sauntered over to the servants unpacking
food from large cane baskets.
Charles strolled across the clearing to join her. “What
was that all about?”
“A private discussion,” Rosalind said.
“About Lucien?”
“Go and fi sh or something,” Rosalind murmured, her
lips twitching in the beginnings of a smile. “I must supervise
the servants before Lady Jessica takes me to task.”
In truth, the servants didn’t require instruction. Th
ey
were effi
cient, well trained, and almost fi nished with their
task. Instead, Rosalind used the time to ponder the situation.
She wondered if Lady Helena would heed her warnings. A
child would cement Rosalind’s claim on Lucien . . .
Lady Jessica clapped her hands together and raised her
voice for all to hear. “I thought we would walk to the folly on
the other side of the copse before we break our fast.”
Enthusiasm greeted her suggestion, and most of the
guests drifted down the narrow track in pairs.
Rosalind mulled back over everything that had hap-
pened to her and Lucien. She’d read Lady Helena easily. Th
e
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THE SECOND SEDUCTION
other woman hadn’t known about the tunnels. Her surprise
had been evident. Puzzlement furrowed Rosalind’s forehead
as she thought on the matter. Was it possible there were two
villains? Was Lucien right in thinking that Hawk was re-
sponsible? And was Justin Hawk? Rosalind was unsure, but
she needed answers for Lucien. Perhaps if she read Justin
again? She glanced over her shoulder and saw him walking
just ahead of Charles and Lady Helena. How could she do
that without causing suspicion? An idea popped into her
head, simple and foolproof.
Rosalind hastened her walk and pretended to turn her
ankle in a rut in the path. A theatrical screech echoed in
the clearing. Her scream. Justin was at her side in moments.
Not bad, she thought suppressing a broad smile. Perhaps she
should take to the boards. She closed her eyes and clutched
at her ankle, letting a soft moan escape from between slightly
parted lips.
“Where does it hurt?”
“My ankle,” Rosalind said, peeping at him from be-
tween lowered lashes. “It’s felt a little tender ever since I fell
on the stairs.”
“Can you put weight on it?”
Bother. She didn’t want her ankle to look so bad she
had to return to the castle. “I’m sure I can.” Her bottom lip
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SHELLEY MUNRO
quivered. “Can you help me stand?”
Justin lifted her bodily to her feet. Rosalind opened her
mind to his thoughts. And caught a wave of concern for her.
Th
at was it. Guilt sliced through Rosalind at her deception.
Charles arrived with Lady Helena on his arm. “Are you
all right, Rosalind?”
“I’m fi ne. I have no idea what I tripped on.”
“I think I should return you to the castle,” Justin said,
his face a picture of concern. “You were dizzy earlier on.”
“Oh, no. I don’t want to spoil the picnic for everyone.”
Alarm shot up her spine. Th
is was not going the way she
planned. She didn’t want to be alone with him.
“I think that’s best,” Charles agreed.
Before Rosalind knew how it happened, she was in the
carriage with Justin and on her way back to the castle.
Justin touched her arm. “You’re very quiet. How is the
ankle?”
“I feel a bit of a fraud,” Rosalind admitted. “It’s fi ne now.”
She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and considered
how to proceed. She could hardly blurt out her questions.
Was blond-haired Justin Hawk? A wig could explain the dif-
ference in hair color easily enough.
Justin let his hand linger on her arm. He grinned at her,
his blond hair glinting in the sun. Rosalind’s eyes narrowed.
348
THE SECOND SEDUCTION
Was it . . .? No, surely not. She snapped her eyes closed for an
instant and opened them again.
“Are you Hawk?” she blurted.
Justin’s hand tightened momentarily on her arm, then he
leaned back to concentrate on driving the horses. He clicked
between his teeth, urging them on.
“You’ve missed the turning to the castle,” Rosalind said
as they cantered past the road leading to the avenue.
“We’re not going to the castle, Rosalind.” Justin urged
the team into a gallop. Th
e wind whistled past them. Rosa-
lind’s blue silk hat sailed away.
“I want to go to the castle.” Her words were snatched away
with the wind as Justin took a hairpin corner at an impossible
speed. She clutched the edge of the seat and held on for grim
death. It was too late now to wish she’d listened to Lucien.
“Rosalind? Rosalind! Where are you?” Lucien stomped from
her chamber into his. Both were empty. He eyed the empty
rooms with misgiving before storming down the stairs in
search of Lady Augusta, a maid, or anyone who would know
his disobedient wife’s location. He found his aunt in the
Blue parlor.
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SHELLEY MUNRO
“Aunt Augusta, have you seen Rosalind?”
Lady Augusta looked up from her needlework. “She went
on an excursion with Charles and Justin. Th
ey were muttering
about Lady Jessica’s cherry tarts. No cause for alarm, surely?”
She should be all right with Charles and Justin. Yet, his
gut churned. He wanted her at his side. Safe. He shouldn’t
have left her this morning without talking to her, but he’d
suff ered from second and third thoughts. It had taken him
time to sort through them to the important issues, to gather
the nerve to take his second chance, just as Francesca had
made him promise.
“Stop behaving like a mooncalf, boy. Go and do some-
thing useful. Rosalind will be back later this afternoon. Go.
I want peace, and I won’t have tranquility with you standing
there glowering.”
“I need to check the progress of the roofi ng in the village.”
Lady Augusta fi xed him with a steely glare. “Th
en, what
are you waiting for, Hastings?”
“Indeed. Your servant, ma’am.” Lucien bowed and strode
through the Great Hall and out into the courtyard. Sunshine
blinded him for an instant. He took comfort from the fact
Rosalind wasn’t walking by herself. Charles and Justin would
look after her and keep her safe.
Needing movement to soothe his agitation, Lucien
350
THE SECOND SEDUCTION
decided to walk to the stables instead of sending for a stable
lad to collect Oberon.
Th
e head groom spied him coming. “Did yer want the
black saddled, my lord?”
“Yes, please, Bishop.”
Th
e groom gestured at two of the stable boys. Th
ey disap-
peared, returning fi ve minutes later with a dancing Oberon.
“Full of oats, he is, my lord. Even after the run this
morning.”
Lucien nodded, taking the reins from the stable boy. He
swung up into the saddle, reining his mount in. His mind
kept returning to Rosalind.
“Anything wrong, my lord?”
Lucien forced a smile, which widened when he noticed
the man focused on a point just above his head. He was be-
coming so used to Rosalind’s lack of reaction, he’d almost
forgotten his face was disfi gured.
“Nothing,” he said. “How long ago did Lady Rosalind
leave? Did they take the carriage?”
“Aye, about two hours ago, my lord.”
Lucien nodded and urged Oberon forward. Th
ere was
nothing to worry about. Yet, still his gut churned insistently,
warning him of danger. He hastened Oberon into a gallop.
Th
e sooner he arrived at the village and completed his mission,
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SHELLEY MUNRO
the sooner he could return to Rosalind.
“You won’t get away with this.” Th
e carriage was traveling
too fast for her to jump. Rosalind searched for a weapon.
“Lucien will come after me,” she shouted above the rattle of
the equipage and the thunder of horses’ hooves.
Justin’s laugh was tinged with an edge of danger. “I’m
counting on it.” He slowed the team enough that they could
hear each other speak, but not enough for her to escape.
Rosalind glared. Th
e man wanted to gloat. Th
at was
obvious by the triumph in his eyes. She wouldn’t ask, she
thought, before changing her mind. For Lucien’s sake, she
needed to learn the truth. “I don’t understand. Why are you
doing this? What have I done to you?”
“Nothing. It’s your husband,” he drawled with distinct
mockery.
“But, Lucien is your friend. You said yourself that the
three of you are like brothers.”
Justin snorted. “Shows what you know.”
Th
e carriage took the corner at an alarming speed, and
Rosalind bit back a scream of alarm. “Do we have to drive so
fast? You won’t achieve anything if you kill us both.”
352
THE SECOND SEDUCTION
“Full of advice, aren’t you?” he sneered, but he reduced
the speed of the horses to a canter.