She closed her eyes tightly and hung on through another wave of sickness. So far that was all they'd done. She'd given no sign that she was conscious, and they were going to wait until she came to before they really settled down to enjoy themselves. Charles's drunken slur played in her head, his lewd chuckle as he said that there was no pleasure in necrophilia. David had muttered something about the governor, and then he too had laughed and put his hand roughly inside her shirt. Then they'd left her and she'd heard them on the beach, talking and laughing. They'd come over several times to look at her, and she'd stayed inert, her face pressed against the rough wood of the gunwales as her mind slowly cleared and she tried to think how she was to get out of this particular pickle.

It seemed as insoluble as the situation with Cornichet. Whether rape was a softer alternative to flaying was something she cared not to debate. Her death was the ultimate intention both then and now. If only she didn't feel so sick… but, then, perhaps if she vomited all over the loathsome twins, they'd find her too disgusting even for rape.

It was a possibility. They'd have to lift her out and put her on the sand, since presumably the narrow and awkward shape of the rowboat didn't lend itself to leisurely violation. And presumably they'd have to loosen her bonds. And then, if she was violently sick, it would take them off guard, and if she had some room to maneuver, maybe she could do something.

It was a forlorn plan but all she had. She lay still, listening, waiting for a change in the tempo of their voices, a footfall in the sand that would indicate an approach.

What she heard was a soft, sighing sound, a thump, a shuffling of sand. Then footsteps. Tamsyn struggled onto her back. Moonlight shone on her white face, where beads of sweat dewed her forehead and the hard lines of the timbers were imprinted on her cheek.

Julian was looking down at her. How had he come to be there? His body was very still, and his blue eyes were hard and bright and questioning, and she could feel his anger and his resentment in every aching bone of her body. Tears of weakness sprang to her eyes as she lay still, gazing up at him. Now he knew everything. His knowledge burned in his eyes and scorched her with his contempt.

Then Gabriel came up beside him, and his warm, loving anxiety poured over her. “Och, little girl, how could you do this to me?” he said, bending to lift her.

But abruptly, Julian pushed him aside. “Leave her to me.” It was a harsh command issued on a ragged breath, but Gabriel took a step back.

Julian bent over her, slipped his hands beneath. her, and lifted her up. The motion, the change in position was too much. With a groan Tamsyn turned her head away from his body and vomited miserably onto the sand, splashing his boots.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I knew it would happen the minute I moved.”

“It doesn't matter,” he said, and the gentleness of his voice surprised them both. He set her down on the sand, and she rolled onto her side, retching feebly while he cut the ropes that bound her. When she finished, he wiped her mouth with his handkerchief and took the twins' bottle of cognac from Gabriel, hovering anxiously beside him. “Have a swallow of this.”

She took a gulp, and the fire burned down her gullet and into her heaving stomach. And miraculously, the queasiness began to abate. She wiped her damp forehead with the back of her arm and looked helplessly up at him. His features were granite, but his eyes were confused.

She turned to look at Charles and David, lying still on the sand. “Are they dead?”

“No, just resting after a knock on the head. Have they touched you?” The question was almost dispassionate, but now his eyes were livid.

She shook her head carefully. “Not much. They were waiting for me to come to. Cedric put something in the champagne… I don't know what it was. I don't know how long I've been unconscious. But it wasn't dark when I was in the library.”

“It's close to eight o'clock now.” He turned away from her, as if satisfied that she was sufficiency recovered to dispense with his attention. “What do you think, Gabriel?” He nudged the still figure of Charles with his toe. “They won't be out for long.”

“How about we strip' em naked, put' em in the boat, and send them out to sea?” Gabriel said promptly. “They'll probably get picked up sometime tomorrow, more's the pity, but what a sight they'll be!”

“You'd have to row the boat,” Tamsyn pointed out.

“And then how would you get back to shore?”

“Swim,” Gabriel said with a grin. “I'll row them out beyond the headland. The tide's going out, it'll take them a goodly way out to sea by morning.”

“You'll be swimming against the current, and it's strong around here,” Julian pointed out.

“So am I,” Gabriel said, still grinning. “You going to help me strip them, Colonel?”

“With pleasure.”

Tamsyn watched as the twins were rendered white and naked on the sand. They both stirred and groaned as Gabriel tugged off their boots.

“Funny thing!” Gabriel frowned. “Seem to have hurt their feet in exactly the same spot.”

“Yes,” Tamsyn said. “I owed them a favor.” Julian's eyes darted toward her as she sat on the sand.

He fought the persistent and exasperating amnesia that had swept over him first when he'd seen her lying in the bottom of the boat, and she'd gazed up at him in silent, anxious plea, and his heart had turned over with joy that she was alive, and he'd forgotten his hurt and anger in his joyous relief and the need to hold her in his arms.

Coldly, he turned away from her to help Gabriel heft the inert figures into the rowboat.

Tamsyn shivered, but the night was warm and the chill was within her. She'd seen his eyes, and she could read his thoughts as if they were an open book.

Gabriel stripped to his long woolen drawers and helped the colonel push the boat into the lapping surf, then sprang over the side and fitted the oars into the rowlocks. David stirred, groaned, and his eyelids fluttered. “Go back to sleep, laddie.” Gabriel tapped him gently on the jaw with his heel. It had looked to Julian like the lightest of touches, but David fell back again, inert.

The power of this unpredictable giant was not to be minimized. “You're not intending to kill them, are you?”

Gabriel shook his head, saying cheerfully, “A day in the broiling sun on the open sea will do nicely, Colonel. I'll even leave them an oar, if you like.”

Julian looked at the naked bodies and thought of them bobbing on the open sea under the midmorning sun, waiting to be found by a fishing boat. It was a pleasing prospect. “Leave them one,” he said.

Gabriel nodded. “And you'll take the little girl back home.”

“I'll not deny her the shelter of my roof for another night,” Julian stated flatly. “After that, since your business is done here, I imagine you'll have no further need of my hospitality.”

Gabriel frowned in the moonlight; then he said neutrally, “Leave my horse where he is. I'll collect him and my clothes when I get back.”

Julian stepped back to the sand, watching, hands on his hips, as Gabriel pulled strongly toward the opening of the cove. Then he turned around. Tamsyn was sitting on a rock, her hands clasped lightly in her lap, her head bent as if she were looking for something in the sand.

She raised her head, and her eyes were large and strained in her pale face. “So you know everything now.”

Julian raised an eyebrow. “I can't believe that,” he drawled. “There are no more secrets, no more illicit little plots percolating in your devious mind? You'll have to forgive me if I find that hard to credit, Violette.”

“Oh, there's one secret,” she said dully. “But only one, and you might as well know it. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. And I'll never love anyone else in the same way.”