"You'll find all the necessities in there," he told Chloe, gesturing to the portmanteau. "You may use the screen for privacy."

Chloe found tooth powder, hairbrushes, clean linen, and a nightdress in the portmanteau. The servant brought the burgundy while she was gathering together what she needed. She stood uncertainly, looking at her brother as he poured the wine. The connecting door between the two chambers was also open and she could hear Denis and Crispin moving about.

"Are you going to stay in here?"

"I told you you may use the screen," Jasper said, sipping wine. His eyes ran over her, and he said with a slight smile, "For as long as you behave yourself, I'll grant you that privacy for the rest of the journey. But don't test my clemency too far."

"Could you at least close the door?" She must keep calm, sound reasonable, refuse to be either intimidated or enraged by Jasper.

He glanced carelessly toward the open door. "What are you afraid of, little sister?"

"I'm not afraid," she declared stoutly. "But I'm accustomed to closing my bedroom door."

"Well, you may have to become accustomed to many new experiences." Jasper shrugged. "If you don't wish to refresh yourself, then I will do so myself."

Her need was too pressing to make a stand. Chloe whisked behind the screen. There was a commode and dressing table with mirror, basin, and ewer. Telling herself it was no more public than the retiring room at Almack's, she used the commode, bathed her face in warm water, brushed her hair, and smoothed down her dress. The marks on her cheek had faded, but there was a welt around her wrists where the cravat had bitten deep.

She couldn't afford that to happen again. Jasper had made it very clear that he would hurt her without compunction if she gave him an opportunity. The other two were acting under his authority, and she didn't sense that they would do anything unilateral, although when she thought of Crispin holding her down in the carriage, of his hands moving over her, she shuddered with a bone-deep revulsion. Jasper had permitted that. It was clear that she would have to endure some degree of humiliation, but if she pretended it wasn't happening, then she could manage not to react… she hoped.

Emerging from the screen, she asked neutrally, "May I have a glass of wine?"

"Certainly." He poured it for her. "Now, take it into the other chamber so Crispin and Denis may keep an eye on you while I refresh myself."

She shrugged with an appearance of nonchalance and strolled into the connecting room. "Your pardon for disturbing you, gentlemen, but I understand you're to keep watch over me while Jasper is otherwise occupied."

Crispin and Denis were drinking wine by the fire. Unconsciously, Denis rose as she entered as if he were still in a fashionable drawing room. Crispin chuckled and Denis sat down again, flushing.

"Come here," Crispin commanded, snapping his fingers.

"I'm not a dog," Chloe said, deciding that Crispin could probably safely be defied… at least for the moment.

"I owe you a lot," Crispin said quietly, his hands going to his throat, remembering those steely fingers squeezing the life from him. "And I can promise you, Miss Gresham, that you will get everything that's due you."

"I don't doubt your intention, Crispin," she said coldly, leaning against the doorjamb as she sipped her wine. "But forgive me if I doubt your powers."

Crispin sprang up with an exclamation. She stood her ground, knowing that if she kept total silence, offered total submission, she would lose the will to endure. And when the time for true endurance came, she would need every fiber of will.

He gripped her shoulders and brought his mouth down on hers, grinding her lips against her teeth with savage violence. She tried to wrench her head sideways, tried to create enough space between their bodies to bring her knee up.

Then abruptly he let her go, looking sheepishly over her shoulder to where his stepfather stood in the doorway. Chloe gasped for breath, her lips stinging, every inch of her body throbbing with the sense of violation.

"She is insolent," Crispin declared with an air that

reminded Chloe of a schoolboy telling tales to escape censure.

"Really," Jasper said, holding up his wineglass to the light, subjecting the contents to an interested examination.

"Insolence goes without its dinner," he murmured indifferently. "But you will leave disciplinary measures to me in the future. Is that clear?"

Crispin flushed. "Yes, sir."

"Then let us go in to dinner… even those of us who will not partake." He took Chloe's arm and pushed her ahead of him across the corridor to the private parlor. "Sit down." He pulled out a chair for her in a parody of chivalry.

The promised shoulder of mutton sent up the most enticing aromas from the sideboard, filling the air with the scent of fresh rosemary. The compote of mushrooms, a bowl of red currant sauce, and a dish of roasted potatoes sat in the center of the table.

It was past nine o'clock and Chloe had eaten nothing since noon. It was one thing to be deprived of her dinner, she thought, battling with tears of rage and disappointment. Quite another to have to sit and watch while others consumed. The tormenting aromas set her saliva running, her stomach cleaving to her backbone.

Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes, folding her hands neatly in her lap, and took her mind out of the parlor and away from the company of her captors. It was not an entirely successful ploy from her own point of view, but at least it ensured her companions didn't have the satisfaction of her obvious discomfort.

But the ordeal was over at last. Back in their bedchamber, Jasper locked both doors and pocketed the keys. Chloe prepared for bed behind the screen. When she emerged in her nightgown, Jasper was standing in

his britches by the fire. He'd pulled off his boots and was now unbuttoning his shirt. He tossed the garment aside and strode toward the bed.

Chloe stared at his chest… at the tiny coiled snake pricked into the skin above his heart.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Jasper demanded, struck by her arrested expression. "I suppose you haven't seen a man without his shirt before. Well, you needn't worry, little sister, you stand in no danger from my bare chest."

"That-" Chloe said, her voice sounding strangled. She pointed at the device. "That… that snake… Hugo…"

"What'" Jasper gave a sudden crack of laughter. "Oh, so you've seen your esteemed guardian in a state of undress, have you? I suppose it's not surprising that drunken sot failed to observe the proprieties."

"Don't call him that!" Chloe said fiercely. "He is not."

"Such a vehement defense." Jasper's voice was suddenly very soft, his eyes narrowed. "Now, whatever could Lattimer have done to earn such violent championship?"

"He was kind to me," Chloe stated, praying she wouldn't blush, that nothing would be revealed in her expression. Rushing her words, she demanded, "But why do you both have that snake?"

"Ahh, so Hugo didn't think to let you into his little secret," her brother mused. He gestured to the bed. "Get in."

"Are we sh-sharing the bed?"

"You will sleep in it, I will sleep on it," Jasper said impatiently. "Now, hurry up."

Chloe pulled back the sheet and slid between the covers. She lay on her back, very still.

Jasper lay down on the cover beside her. "Give me your wrist." He had his belt in his hand and quite calmly fastened one end around Chloe's wrist and the other around his own.

"Now," he said softly, "I'll tell you a story, little sister. A bedtime story…"