"Yet drawing is such an important accomplishment for a lady," he chided gently. "I shall hire you a drawing master and you will soon learn."

Sylvia murmured her thanks. She was soon exclaiming in delight at the beauty of the lake, which was larger than she had expected. "And there are the boats," she said excitedly. "Oh, may we take them out this afternoon, my lord?"

"Of course you may," he said indulgently, "provided one of the gentlemen accompanies you. You will find, my dear, that after we are married, I shall be very insistent that you never take out a boat alone. I should not wish my pretty little wife to endanger herself in any way."

Sylvia looked up shyly into his face to find that he was smiling kindly down at her.

Rosalind was walking with Sir Rowland Axby. He was telling her how his children would enjoy Broome Hall and its spacious grounds. The lake too would delight them and the boats, and an island in the middle of the lake for them to explore. Rosalind began to wonder why he spent so much time away from his children if he loved them so much. But perhaps his need to find them a new mother kept him out in society. Rumor had it that he had offered for two other girls, both new debutantes, since his proposal to her. And he had been particularly attentive to Susan Heron in the last two days, though she had made a determined effort to avoid him this afternoon by grabbing Sir Bernard's arm as if it were a lifeline.

Some of the party sat on the grass by the lake, shaded by the branches of a large oak tree, though Lady Theresa still found it necessary to use a parasol that matched so perfectly the light-blue muslin of her dress that Sir Rowland was moved to tell her that she looked as pretty as a picture. Lord Standen, his sister, and Susan Heron decided to stroll around the lake as far as they could before swampland made further walking impossible. Sir Bernard Crawleigh, Nigel Broome, Sylvia, and Rosalind took to the boats.

Nigel pulled hard at the oars of his boat. He deliberately took a different direction from that taken by Crawleigh, who was rowing at a far more leisurely pace directly toward the island. Nigel said nothing until he and Sylvia were a considerable distance away from anyone else in their party.

"I say," he said at last, shipping the oars and allowing the boat to rock gently on the water, "did I get you into trouble last night, Sylvia?"

"No, really," she denied, "you did not force me to speak."

"I'll wager Mama and George did not like it, though," he said. "They consider me the black sheep, you know. I can stand their disapproval because my conscience tells me that I am right. But I would not for the world have you take my part and incur their displeasure too. Did you get a thundering scold?"

"Well, not exacdy a scold," she said unhappily.

"You need say no more," he said a trifle grimly. "I know how both George and Mama can sound so kind and so sincere. They can have one feeling quilty even when one knows that one had done no wrong."

"Nigel," Sylvia said, color rising in her cheeks, "is it so dreadful to disagree with one's husband? I would never openly criticize his lordship, you know, and I will try never to fight with him. I am sure he is right when he says that he knows so much more than I and I should allow myself to be guided by him. But surely it is not wrong sometimes to disagree with him and at least discuss a topic. Is it?"

"Of course it is not!" he agreed vehemently. "Don't let George make a little human doll out of you, Sylvie. You are very sweet and very young, but I have noticed that you feel strongly about some things."

"Yes," she agreed eagerly. "I was very upset when I came to London for the first time and saw the poverty and the dirt. I wanted to stop the carriage and give all my money away. But you have an idea that will really help some people, Nigel, and I do think it so noble of you to want to try."

He leaned forward and touched her hand. "You have a very gentle heart, Sylvia," he said, gazing earnestly into her face, "but you are certainly not a weak person."

She turned her hand so that their fingers clasped. "You give me courage, Nigel," she said. "When I am with you, I feel as if I could stand up against the world."

She tried to smile, but suddenly they were looking intently into each other's eyes. Their hands involuntarily clasped more tightly.

"Oh, God!" he whispered.

"Nigel?" she said, her voice thin and wavering.

At the same moment they snatched their hands away and broke eye contact. Sylvia smoothed her dress over her knees with jerky movements. Nigel snatched up the oars and began to row. They did not look at each other or speak for a while.

"I shall have to go away, you know," he blurted at last. "Tonight."

"Please don't," Sylvia pleaded, her eyes coming back to his face. "Oh, please don't leave me here alone, Nigel."

"Alone?" he said. "You have your cousin here and your friends. You can enjoy what is left of the week."

"No, I cannot," she said, her voice shaking. "Please, Nigel, do not leave. I am mortally afraid of him."

"Of George?" he asked, incredulous. "He won't harm you, Sylvia. He may be somewhat starchy and he may scold a little, but he would never hurt you or be really cruel."

"Oh, I know," Sylvia wailed. "But I cannot be alone with him, Nigel. I do not love him. I have made a terrible mistake."

They stared at each other, Sylvia's eyes wide and frightened.

Nigel finally stopped rowing and shipped the oars again. "I believe it is quite common," he said carefully, staring down at his boots, "for people to panic before their wedding. It is such a final step, you see. But their fear may not reflect their true feelings."

"Nigel," Sylvia said, "I never did love your brother. I thought I did because he is handsome and has such presence. And it felt so wonderful to attract such a, great lord during my first Season. Cousin Edward was so pleased and thought it such an eligible match for me. Even so, I believe I would not have become betrothed so soon if he had not been your brother, Nigel."

"Did I persuade you to?" he asked aghast.

"No," she replied, "but I liked you so much and I must have felt that I liked him too just because he is your brother."

Nigel ran his fingers through his hair. "It is too late now, Sylvia," he said. "I should be shot. I was so busy courting you for George that I did not fully realize that I wished to court you for myself."

"Oh, did you really, Nigel?" she asked.

Nigel picked up the oars and once more began to row, this time in the direction of the bank. He did not speak until they were close to the small group who had stayed on the grass. "It is no good," he said finally. "I can see no way out."

Sir Bernard Crawleigh, meanwhile, had rowed his boat directly for the small island in the middle of the lake. Rosalind made no objection. In fact, he had noted that her eyes sparkled and her lips smiled today. Her manner was almost flirtatious.

"You look very fetching in that particular shade of orange," he said. "Quite southern. I must take you to Italy for our wedding trip, Rosalind. Do you have relatives there?"

"Yes, several," she replied, smiling. "I have corresponded with them since my parents died there."

By unspoken consent they did not converse again until the boat had been secured to a tree branch that overhung the water at the island, and Sir Bernard had helped Rosalind onto dry land.

She looked down at her feet gingerly. "I do hope this is not just a stretch of swampy land," she said.

"Not at all," he replied. "George tells me there is even a pavilion hidden among these trees that was built for him and his brother when they were children."