"You're smiling as though you'd like to do just that," Christina announced. "No, I won't change my mind. You're going to be very sorry, Lyon," she added in a sympathetic voice. "I'm not at all what you think I am."

"I know exactly what I'm getting," Lyon said, trying not to laugh. She was giving him a forlorn look, telling him without words that she felt sorry for him.

"You're marrying me because you realize how good it was when we slept together," he announced.

It was an arrogant statement, and he really didn't think she'd bother to answer him.

"No."

Christina opened the door, smiled at Aunt Harriett, then turned to give Lyon her full answer. "The full truth, Lyon?"

"That would be nice for a change," Lyon answered with a drawl.

"In front of your dear Aunt Harriett?" she qualified, giving the perplexed woman a quick smile.

Aunt Harriett let out a sigh, then pulled the door closed again. Christina could hear her muttering something about not needing her fan what with the door flapping back and forth in her face, but she didn't understand what the older lady meant.

"Answer me, Christina, with your full truth."

His sudden impatience irritated her. "Very well. I'm marrying you because of the way you fought the mischief makers."

"What does that have to do with marriage?" he asked.

"Oh, everything."

"Christina, will you make sense for once in your life?" Lyon demanded.

She realized then she should simply have lied to him again. The truth was often more upsetting, more complex than a simple fabrication. Still, it was a little too late to fashion another lie now. Lyon looked as if he wanted to shout. "I'm trying to make sense, Lyon. You see, even though the battle wasn't much to boast about, you did fight like a warrior."

"And?"

"Well, it's perfectly clear to me."

"Christina." His voice was low, angry.

"You aren't going to be an easy man to kill. There, now you have the full truth. Does it satisfy you?"

Lyon nodded, giving her the impression he understood what she was talking about. He knew in that moment that nothing the woman ever said to him in the future would confuse him. No, he'd just reached his limit. A man could only take so many surprises, he told himself.

Then he tried to concentrate on the new puzzle she'd handed him. "Are you telling me you'll try to kill me once we're wed, but because I can defend myself, you might not be able to accomplish the deed? And that is why you're marrying me?"

He had to shake his head when he'd finished his illogical conclusions.

"Of course not," Christina answered. "How shameful of you to think I'd want to harm you. You've a devious mind, Lyon."

"All right," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "I apologize for jumping to such unsavory conclusions."

Christina looked suspicious. "Well, I would hope so," she muttered. "I shall accept your apology," she added grudgingly. "You look contrite enough to make me believe you're sincere."

Lyon vowed he wasn't going to lose his patience. He wasn't as certain about his mind, however. Christina was making mincemeat out of all his thoughts. God help him, he was going to get a clear answer out of her, no matter how long it took. "Christina," he began, keeping his voice soothing enough to lull an infant, "since you've decided I'm not an easy man to kill-and I do appreciate your faith in me, by the way-do you happen to know who's going to try?"

"Try what?"

"To kill me."

The man really needed to learn how to control his temper. Christina had just opened the door again. She smiled at Aunt Harriett, saw the poor woman was about to speak, but shut the door in her face before she could get a word out. She didn't want the woman to overhear her answer.

"My father. He's coming back to England. He'll try to kill me. I promise to protect you, Lyon, for as long as I'm here. When I go away again, he'll leave you alone."

"Christina, if he's going to try to kill you, why do you think to protect me?"

"Oh, he'll have to kill you first. It's the only way he'll be able to get to me," she reasoned. "You're a very possessive man, Lyon. Yes, you are," she added when she thought he was about to protest. "You'll guard me."

Lyon was suddenly feeling extremely pleased but didn't have the faintest idea why. Had she just given him a compliment? He couldn't be sure.

He decided to make certain. "Then you trust me," he announced.

She looked astonished. "Trust a white man? Never."

Christina jerked the door open and set about smoothing the bluster out of Aunt Harriett. It was a difficult undertaking, for her mind was still occupied with Lyon 's outrageous conclusion. Trust him? Where in God's name had he come by that ridiculous notion?

"It's about time, young lady. A woman could grow old waiting for you."

"Aunt Harriett, I appreciate your patience. And you were so right. A good talk with Lyon has resolved all my worries. Will you show me to my room now? I would like to help the maid unpack my gowns. Do you think there's enough room here for my aunt when she returns to London next week? The Countess will be displeased when she learns I've moved away."

Her ploy worked. Aunt Harriett immediately lost her puzzled expression. The urge to take charge overrode all other considerations. "Of course I was right. Now come along with me. Did you know Diana has invited several people over for the afternoon? Quite a number have already arrived. They're all very anxious to meet you, Christina."

The door clicked shut on Aunt Harriett's enthusiastic remarks.

Lyon walked back over to the windows. He saw the gathering in the garden below, then dismissed the guests from his mind.

The puzzle was taking shape. Lyon concentrated on the new item he believed to be true. Christina did think her father was going to come back to England.

To kill her.

The frightened look in her eyes, the way her voice had trembled, told him she was, for once, giving him the truth. She knew far more than she was telling, however. Lyon guessed the only reason she'd admitted that much to him was to put him on his guard.

She was trying to protect him. He didn't know if he should feel insulted or happy. She had taken on his duty. But she was right. He was possessive. Christina belonged to him, and he wasn't about to let anyone harm her. They'd have to kill him first in order to get to her.

How had she ever come by such conclusions about her father? Lyon remembered how emphatic Sir Reynolds had been when he told him Christina had never even met her father.

None of it made sense, unless Christina's mother had lived longer than anyone believed and had handed down her fears to her daughter… or possibly left the fears with someone else.

Who had raised Christina? It surely wasn't the

Summertons, Lyon thought with a smile. What a little liar she was. Though he should have been furious with her for deceiving him, he was actually amused. He sensed she'd fabricated the story just to placate him.

How simple it would be if only she'd tell him the whole truth. Christina wouldn't, of course, but at least now he understood her reason. She didn't trust him.

No, he corrected himself, she didn't trust white men.

She'd meant to say Englishmen… or had she?

The key to the riddle rested in the missionary's hands. Lyon knew he'd have to be patient. Bryan had sent him a note telling him that Mick had remembered the man's name. He was called Claude Deavenrue.

Lyon had immediately dispatched two of his loyal men in search of Deavenrue. Although he knew the missionary had told Mick he was going to stop in England on his way back from France to pay Christina a visit, Lyon wasn't about to put his faith in that possibility. There was always the chance Deavenrue might change his mind, or that Mick had been wrong in what he'd heard.