From the corner of her eye-if she turned, she feared that her wobbly stomach would betray her-she saw that Trev finally took her hint and pulled his collar and scarf up about his face. Fortune and the general disarray of things favored them; no one even looked at him twice as a clamor went up regarding the where abouts of the mysterious Belgian gentleman.

"Shabbed off, I'll wager," a deep voice rumbled. Callie recognized the drover who'd prevented the panicked calf from running into the fire. "His jig's up, ain't it?"

"Look for him at the Gerard." Major Sturgeon stood up beside her, scowling. "He was there last night."

"Major," she said plaintively, reaching for his hand. "Will you find him for me?"

"Certainly, my lady." He bent down and kissed her fingers. "Davenport, can you send someone? I don't want to leave her side."

"No, please-" She pulled her hand away. "I wish to go to my room. But… Colonel, you were right after all, he did steal Hubert." She looked again at Major Sturgeon, putting on her best imitation of a lost puppy. "But you have such resolution, Major-will you hunt for him yourself? I hope you won't let him get away."

It seemed to have a good effect. "Of course. Of course not." Reluctantly he let go of her and then caught her elbow again as she pushed herself to her feet. "Let me help you-no, that's the wrong way, my dear."

She turned, ignoring him, tottering a step toward the foot of the sofa. She managed to trip on her skirts and fall against Trev's chest. "Oh," she muttered. "I beg your pardon. Where is… where is my maid?"

His arm came round her, holding her up as she allowed her knees to crumple. "Have a care, Miss," he muttered through his scarf. Then, without further ceremony, he bent down and picked her up bodily. "Where's 'er lady's slavey?" His voice was a rough growl, a fair imitation of a local drawl muff led within the scarf. The sound of it rumbled against her cheek. "You, inn'it? Lead us on up, then, and sharp about it. Shove over, let me through."

The knot of spectators parted. He swung her round, mounting the stairs as Lilly hurried ahead. Callie closed her eyes, clinging to his neck. She was aware of the sound of many people on the stairs, of talk of the doctor's arrival, and then of passing under the door to her rooms. Trev carried her through to the bedroom. As he laid her down, she held on to him and hissed into his ear, "Don't you dare leave!"

He grunted and stepped away. Lilly bustled about, ejecting several interested persons who had followed them upstairs. She allowed the doctor in, so Callie sat up quickly, pretending to a considerably stronger state of revival than she felt. She submitted to an examina tion of the bump on her head, trying not to wince every time the doctor touched it, promised that she would rest quietly and not go out for several days, and positively refused the administration of laudanum. The doctor shook his head and went away complaining that a young lady ought to have a guardian with her when she traveled, someone who could keep her from bumping her head and make her mind her elders.

Callie waited until the door clicked closed behind him. She had been well aware that all the time she was being examined, Trev and Lilly had been standing in a corner of the bedroom, speaking in low tones to one another, so that the doctor took them both for her servants.

"Lilly," she said. "Pray close the bedroom door. Stand outside and make certain that no one comes in."

Lilly cast a glance at Trev and bit her lip. "But Sir wants me to-"

"Do as I ask, if you please," Callie interrupted. Her head hurt. She put her hand to her temple. "I don't care what 'sir' would like at the moment."

The maidservant bit her lip and curtsied. She turned away to the door. Trev moved a step, and Callie lifted her head.

"Do not leave!" she ordered him.

He stopped. Lilly closed the bedroom door behind her, leaving them alone. Callie sat on the bed, looking at him. He'd pulled down the scarf to show his face, but still the sinister gypsy effect was powerful.

"I can't stay long," he said.

"Really!" Callie favored him with a dry look. "And how do you plan to accomplish an exit, when half the county is loitering below looking for you?"

He returned a sardonic smile. "By the window."

"Oh, of course." She blinked, touching her hand gingerly to the bump on her head. The doctor's probing had only made it worse. She realized that her hair was falling down.

"Are you all right?" he asked. There was a peculiar tautness about his mouth.

"I am excessively put out with you!" she said, taking this as an invitation to vent her spleen. "You started that rout, didn't you? And you had those men helping to let the animals loose! Whatever possessed you to do such a thing? Any number of them might have been hurt or lost. And think of the prize pies!" She paused, her lip trembling. "Someone could have been killed! It was abominable of you."

"I'd not thought of the prize pies, I'll admit."

"Well, you should have. And the preserves and cheeses. I'm sure poor Mrs. Franklin is weeping her heart out right now, after Hubert threw a barrel through her pear tarts. She is a new bride, you know."

"No. I didn't know."

"And you haven't the least regret, have you?" Her resentment grew. "It's all quite a game to you, isn't it? You stroll into some unsuspecting town and cause a riot, and then you can't stay long." She stood up, holding on to the bedpost when the room had a tendency to rotate about her. "You just go away and leave the rest of us to put everything to rights."

"Yes," he said.

The fact that he stood there without defending himself only fed her wrath. "Why did you do it? You didn't warn me. You didn't stop and think. Surely there was some other way to reveal Hubert, something a little less-spectacular! I thought we were to do it on the last day of the fair."

"We were," he said shortly.

"Then why?" she demanded.

His lip curled. "I was angry."

"Angry?" She blinked. "At what?"

"You showed him the pig." There was a note of self-mockery in his voice.

"The pig?" She had no notion what he meant.

"And laughed at what he said. Of course I had to put a stop to that at once."

"The pig? Do you mean that fat sow?"

He gave a slight shrug of assent, like a schoolboy called up on the carpet.

"You started all that-you put us all in danger- because I laughed about a pig? Are you mad?" she exclaimed.

"It was our pig, do you see?" His voice rose to match hers. "God damn it. I haven't asked for much. Give me a goddamned pig at least."

She shook her head, bewildered. "It's not my pig."

He threw back his head and gave a brief, hard laugh. "No. Right. I'm sorry you were hurt. Scared the daylights out of me. It's true, it could have been far more serious, I didn't realize until it got out of hand." He sounded mortified. "I'm sorry. My damnable temper."

"I only laughed because Major Sturgeon was so stupid. He asked me if she was a Berkshire hog, when anyone could see that she's an Old Spot."

He took a stride toward her. Callie leaned back against the bedpost with her hands behind her. In his rough jacket and heavy stockman's boots, he seemed much larger than he ought, his dark, satyric features fit for a highwayman. For an instant she thought he might shake her, but instead he took her cheeks between his hands.

She felt the rough wool of the mitts, and his fingertips resting on her cheeks. He bent his face to hers. "Callie-know something, believe something. I must go, but believe that I love you. Marry that fellow if you must; I know you have your reasons. I know I've let you down at every turn. I'm not the man who could give you the sort of life you deserve. But wherever I go, mon trésor, it doesn't matter where-I'll think of you. You're in my heart. Believe me. You're the only true and honest thing in my life."