"This won't do," Caroline whispered. "Get hold of yourself this instant, and do what we discussed. It is now or never, Charity." With those words of encouragement, Caroline opened the door to the library, gave her cousin an unladylike push, and then shut the door behind her.

Bradford had intended to go with Charity but Caroline stopped his advance. She leaned against the oak door and smiled up at him. "It's up to Charity now. And do quit frowning, Bradford. You're making me nervous."

"Caroline, I really think I should ease the way between the two of them. Paul has changed."

"You will trust me in this matter," Caroline demanded.

Bradford didn't make a comment. He winced when he heard Bleachley's outraged yell and felt his shoulders slump. And then sweet Charity's voice reached him and he was completely stunned. The little cousin sounded just like a shrew as she yelled at the man Bradford was led to believe she actually loved.

Bradford's frown became more pronounced and he opened his mouth to tell Caroline just what he was thinking, but she shook her head and cautioned him to be silent.

"How dare you be alive!" Charity yelled the accusation loud enough for both Caroline and Bradford to overhear. "I believed that you were honorable, you scoundrel!"

Bradford couldn't hear Paul's reply. But Charity's voice was so forceful, he was surprised the door wasn't trembling. "I will not get out. Not until I have told you what a horrid man you are. You promised me marriage, Mr. Bleachley! You have toyed with my affections. You said that you loved me!"

"Look at me!" The demand, sounding like an angry lion's roar, came from Paul Bleachley.

"I am looking at you!" Charity screamed back. "At long last, I might add. It's been months since I last saw you, and each day was filled with tears and pain, Paul. I thought you were dead. Oh, I was a fool. You aren't honorable at all, are you?"

Bradford waited to hear Paul's answer but instead of an angry retort, he heard the crash of glass breaking. "What's going on in there?" he demanded as he tried to move Caroline from the doorway.

Caroline struggled and, realizing that he was far superior in might, quickly changed her plan. She threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head toward her. And then she kissed him, as thoroughly and as passionately as he had taught her. The distraction worked and Bradford quickly became a willing participant. His last coherent thought was that he would remove Caroline from the doorway and drag Charity from the library just as soon as he had finished kissing the woman who actually believed she could undermine his intentions.

Inside the library, Charity continued to play the woman scorned. She picked up another vase and hurled it in the vicinity of Paul's desk. In her heart, she was plainly horrified by her actions. She wanted to weep with sorrow each time she looked at her love and saw the pain in his eyes.

Paul was forced to duck when the second vase nearly hit the top of his head. He stood up then, his hands clenching the edge of the desk as he leaned forward. He no longer tried to shield his face with his hands. "For God's sake. Can't you see the damage? Put on your spectacles, Charity, and look at my face."

Charity didn't argue. She opened her purse, dumped the contents on the table nearest her, and quickly put on the wire-rim spectacles. Then she turned, her hands on her hips, and gave Paul a long stare. "Well?" she demanded in return.

"Are you blind?" The anger suddenly went out of Paul Bleachley. He was so confused by her reaction. "I am no longer handsome, Charity. Do I have to point to each scar?"

His voice was filled with despair but Charity was heartless to it. "You vain man! So that is your trick, is it? To try to convince me that a few paltry marks are the reason you discarded me? Ha! I'm not an imbecil, Paul. Surely you could do better than that. Did I bore you? Did you find someone else? Tell me the real reason and perhaps I will forgive you."

"There isn't anyone else," Paul replied, yelling again. "I can only see with one eye now, Charity. See how the other bulges? How handsome do you find that?"

Charity was forced to grab a rather ornate arrangement of flowers and throw it toward Paul. "Then wear a patch if it bothers you," she demanded.

"And the scars, Charity. What do I do about the scars?"

"For heaven's sake, Paul, grow a beard. And quit changing the topic. We are talking about your broken promise to marry me. Vanity is not the issue here."

Charity fluffed her hair while she paused for breath and then turned and replaced the items in her purse. She took her time about the chore, knowing that Paul was staring at her every move. "I am wearing a new hairdo and you haven't even commented," she remarked while she pulled the drawstring to her purse closed. "All you can think about is yourself. Well, I am only glad to know that I found out what a vain man you are now, before our marriage. I will have to reform you, Paul. You do understand that, don't you? Or are you dense as well as vain?"

"Reform me?"

Charity caught the whisper and looked at Paul again. She saw the glimmer of hope in his eyes and knew, in that instant when their gazes held, that she had truly won. "And now, before I leave I will issue you an ultimatum," Charity said. Her voice sounded brisk and she was pleased. She carefully put on her white gloves and began to pace in front of Paul's desk. "You will either present yourself to my uncle and declare your intentions within a fortnight, or I will assume that you no longer love me."

"I have never stopped loving you, Charity, but-"

"And I have never stopped loving you, Paul," she interrupted. Her expression was solemn as she slowly walked up to the side of the desk. Paul turned to her and she gently placed her hands on his cheeks. She stretched on tiptoes and began to place small kisses along his injured cheek. "Please don't misunderstand me, Paul. I am sorry that you were injured. But the past cannot be undone and we must look to the future."

She allowed one long, satisfying kiss that Paul instigated and then pulled back. Her attitude suddenly became brisk again. "Don't you dare try to run away again. I would find you, no matter where you tried to hide. And if I don't see you at my uncle's house soon, I do believe I will become quite violent. You will only have yourself to blame, Mr. Bleachley."

And with those words of warning, Charity straightened her shoulders and opened the door. She walked right past Bradford and Caroline, ignoring the startled expression on her cousin's face as she pulled away from Bradford's embrace, and continued until she was outside.

Caroline was more affected by the kisses she had shared with Bradford than she cared to admit. She blushed and hurried after her cousin, muttering that she was certain she had told Bradford that he could not take liberties with her anymore.

Bradford stood with his mouth open as he listened to Caroline's ramblings. He turned when he heard Paul behind him and was amazed that his friend was smiling. What had he missed? he asked himself as he watched Paul start up the stairs to the second floor.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, frustrated because he was no longer kissing Caroline and because he hadn't a clue as to what had been decided between Bleachley and Charity.

"To grow a beard," Paul called over his shoulder with a shout of laughter.

Charity alternated between crying and laughing most of the way home. Caroline patted her hand and listened as she told how much she loved Paul and how he had suffered. Bradford kept trying to get a word in, to find out just what had happened, and finally Caroline took mercy on him and explained. "I knew that if Charity showed the least bit of sympathy, Paul would turn his back on her. You gave me that clue, Bradford," she remarked.