Gabriel waited until he and Phoebe were alone before he pointed to the chair across from his desk. "Sit down, madam."

Phoebe blinked. "Gabriel, what on earth—"

"Sit."

Phoebe sat. She put her package in her lap. "Who was that little man, Gabriel? What was he doing following me today?"

"His name is Stinton." Gabriel sat down and folded his hands together on his desk. He would stay calm and rational about this if it killed him, he promised himself. He would not lose his temper. "I hired him to follow you about when you went out."

"You hired him to follow me?" Phoebe's lips parted in amazement. "And you did not tell me?"

"No, madam, I did not. I saw no reason to alarm you."

"Why should I have been alarmed? Gabriel, what is going on here?"

Gabriel studied her for a moment, wondering how much to tell her. The problem was that she was now aware of Stinton. He had no real choice except to explain the rest. She would pester him about it until he did. "I have hired Stinton to make certain you do not have any problems with Baxter."

Phoebe looked at him in stunned silence. Her hands clenched around the package in her lap. "With Neil?" she finally managed, her voice sounding half strangled.

"I think it very likely Baxter will attempt to contact you at some time when I am not around."

"I do not understand, my lord."

Gabriel felt his grip on his temper start to slip. "I fail to see why it isn't perfectly obvious, Phoebe. Baxter is a danger to you because he hates me. I have already told you that. I am merely taking prudent steps to be certain he does not get close to you."

"You're afraid that I'll believe whatever he tells me, aren't you?" Phoebe's gaze was suddenly shrewd. "You don't trust me to accept your version of events out there in the islands."

"I'm not going to take any chances." Gabriel surged to his feet and stalked over to the small table where the brandy sat. "I know Baxter too well. The man is a consummate liar."

"But it does not follow that I would believe his lies."

"Why not?" Gabriel swallowed brandy and slammed the glass down on the table. "You did once before."

Phoebe got to her feet, clutching her package to her breast. "That's not fair. I was a much younger woman then. I had not had the experience of the world that I have now."

He swung around to face her. "Experience of the world? You think you have enough experience of the world to deal with men like Neil Baxter? You are a reckless, naive, impulsive little fool. Believe me when I say you're no match for the Baxters of this world."

"Do not talk to me like that, Gabriel."

"I will talk to you any way I wish."

"No, you will not. Furthermore, I do not want you hiring little men to follow me around without my knowledge. It is very unpleasant and I will not tolerate it. If you wish to have someone keep an eye on me, then you must discuss the matter with me first."

"Is that right?"

Phoebe's chin came up swiftly. "Yes, it is. I will decide if I want someone trailing around behind me. But I must say, since the only thing that concerns you is the thought of Neil talking to me, I do not see any need for Stinton."

"Then you are even more naive than I had thought."

"Bloody hell, Gabriel. I am perfectly capable of dealing with Neil."

Gabriel took a step forward and captured her defiant little chin on the edge of his hand. "You do not know what you are saying, madam. You do not know your golden-haired Lancelot the way I do."

Her face flushed. "He is not my Lancelot."

"He was once."

"That was three years ago," Phoebe stormed. "Everything has changed now. Gabriel, you must believe me, I am not in danger of being seduced by Neil Baxter. You must trust me."

Gabriel saw the desperate appeal in her eyes and felt his resolution waver. "It is not a question of trust. It is a question of caution."

"That's not true. It is a question of trust. Gabriel, you have made it clear you do not yet love me. If you do not trust me, either, then we have nothing at all between us."

Nothing at all between us. Talons of anguish and rage,gripped him, sinking deep into his gut, piercing his soul. Gabriel fought to hold on to his self-control. "On the contrary, madam. We have a great deal between us."

"Such as what?" she challenged.

"Such as a marriage," he said coldly. "You are my wife. You will do as I say and you will accept the precautions I deem prudent. That is all there is to the matter. Henceforth, you are not to attempt to evade Stinton."

She looked at him with reckless fury. "And if I do?"

"If you do, you will not be allowed to go out at all. I will confine you to the house."

Phoebe stared at him in dawning shock. There was anger and something else in her eyes. Gabriel thought that the other emotion might have been grief. For a moment she just stood there, clinging to the package she had brought with her.

"So it is true," she finally said, her voice dulled with intense sadness. "We do not even have trust and mutual respect between us. We have nothing at all."

"Goddamn it, Phoebe."

"Here. This is for you." She shoved the package into his hands. Then she turned on her heel and walked toward the library door.

"Phoebe, come back here."

She did not turn around. She went out the door without a word.

Gabriel stared at the closed door for a long while. Then he went back behind his desk and sank wearily down into his chair.

He was aware of a strange numbness somewhere deep inside himself. He looked at the package in front of him for a few minutes and then he slowly and mechanically unwrapped it.

When he had finished peeling off the brown paper, he sat gazing at the familiar volume for a long while. It occurred to him that this was the first gift Phoebe had ever given him. No, he thought, that was not true. The first gift had been the gift of herself. This was the second gift she had given him.

To date he had not given her anything of importance at all.

Phoebe was still wide awake at midnight. Dressed in her nightgown and wrapper, she sat in the chair near the window and gazed out into the darkness. She had opened the window earlier to let in the cool night air. It helped her to think.

She had been thinking intently for hours.

She had stayed in her room all afternoon and evening and she was getting increasingly restless. She was rapidly coming to the conclusion that she was not much suited to sulking. Apparently she did not have the temperament for it.

Certainly she had had a good cry immediately after the scene in the library, but after that, she had gotten rather bored. When she had refused to go down for dinner, she had half expected Gabriel to pound on her door to order her downstairs. Instead he had seen to it that tea and toast had been sent to her room. As a consequence, Phoebe was now extremely hungry.

She was aware that Gabriel had dined at his club. He had been gone for some time before returning home a few minutes ago. She knew he was in his bedchamber now. She had heard him dismiss his valet. Phoebe glanced wistfully at the closed door that connected her room to Gabriel's. Her intuition told her he would not open it tonight. His pride would not allow him to do so.

Phoebe considered her own pride very carefully. It had seemed a very large obstacle earlier in the day, but now it did not appear to be quite so terribly important.

Gabriel was proving to be a perfectly infuriating husband, but there were mitigating circumstances. In his own way he had been trying to protect her. Her reasons for failing to appreciate that protection clearly baffled him.

It was obvious they each had a lot to learn about the other.

Phoebe got up slowly and went to the connecting door. She put her ear to the wood panel and listened carefully. There was no sound from the other room. Gabriel was probably in bed. It would likely never occur to him that he was the one who should apologize. The man could be incredibly dense about some things.