He had said to wait for him but he hadn't actually proposed. He had just assumed she would agree, but to what? Was he contemplating marriage? Or something else? It would be disastrous to make a mistake and misconstrue his intentions. And who was he to order her around like his property?

Rebecca glared at the ledger in front of her, but her thoughts wouldn't stay on the sums. Alex had been gone for almost two weeks, and she missed him. What was he doing for so long in the city? Everyone was asking about him. After the service on Sunday, it seemed that the entire congregation of the church had trooped past her to inquire about his absence.

Her sisters asked daily if there was a letter from him, but no letter arrived. The blasted man didn't write. Maybe he just left, tired of his role-playing and their endless problems. She couldn't blame him. She shouldn't have started this crazy scheme in the first place. Perhaps she should look for a position and not rely on his plans to sell the paintings. Yes, she would write to her friends in the village where they had lived with her aunt and ask if anyone could recommend anything.

She pulled a fresh sheet of foolscap from a stack on her desk, when Mary flew into the library. Waving a letter and beaming, she plopped down on a sofa.

"From Alex?" Rebecca asked eagerly.

"No." Mary's joy faded visibly. "No letter from him again. That's from my friend Alicia. I wrote to her that Alex came back from the war, and she said she would tell everybody. Her Aunt Trudy is surprised she didn't receive your letter about it. It's probably gone astray, right? I'm sure you wrote to Trudy the next day after Alex came, as I did to Alicia."

She chattered on, and Rebecca nodded at intervals, but inside, she quaked. Trudy had been her best friend, when they lived with her aunt. Trudy's parents and Rebecca's aunt had been neighbors. Of course, she would've written to Trudy if Alex, her brother, had returned, but he hadn't. Rebecca was going to write to Trudy right now, to ask if anyone had heard about a position for her.

Alicia's timely letter saved her from an irreparable misstep. It would've been catastrophic, if her letter with such a request arrived only days after Mary's triumphant account of her brother's return from war. It would've started tongues wagging. If Alicia wasn't such a reliable correspondent, Rebecca might've unthinkingly put Alex's good name and freedom in jeopardy. Sent him to prison. She blanched at the thought. Luckily Mary, absorbed in her recital, didn't notice.

Rebecca fixed a smile on her face and nodded encouragingly at Mary to continue with her news but she didn't listen. How would she look for a position now? She couldn't ask anywhere. Her little lie, which she had thought so clever at the time, was getting out of hand. It was crippling her, it was messing with her sisters' heads and hearts, and what it did to Alex she didn't even want to contemplate.

She had heard about some agencies in London that supplied governesses and paid companions to those in need, but she didn't know how to contact such an agency. Perhaps she could ask around, as if for a poor relation? Maybe the vicar would know? No, she couldn't ask him. He already suspected Alex. Gosh, she was in such a pickle! Her only hope was that Alex would return with good news. She wanted to weep with her helplessness but had to pretend to share Mary's elation.

"I must go," Mary said at last and climbed to her feet. "I want to finish Alex's portrait before he comes back. I want it to be a surprise gift for Christmas. Why doesn't he write?" She frowned thoughtfully as she left the library.

"Yes," Rebecca murmured to the closed door. She rubbed her arms and sighed. "I'd like to know that too."

Then another thought intruded on her contemplation. Mary had read the infrequent letters from their brother, the true one. If Alex wrote a letter, Mary would demand to read it. She would see right away that the handwriting was different. Alex had probably realized this hazard long ago. That's why he didn't write. Gosh, how would they extricate themselves from this imbroglio?

Unable to come up with any answer to her multitude of questions, she forced herself to work on the accounts. Her distress notwithstanding, the estate still needed management. She had been at it for an hour, when Henry announced a visitor, Nathan Talbot.

"Oh, dear!" Rebecca sprang to her feet. She didn't need this complication. Before she could refuse to see him, Nathan stomped into the room, his plump hands outstretched. His thick frame and bushy whiskers put her in mind of a teddy bear, as always.

"Rebecca, my darling. I hope you don't begrudge me the familiarity. We're almost betrothed." He caught her hands and kissed them noisily. "How is your brother?"

"He's in London on business," Rebecca said, a rote reply by now. She tugged at her hands, detesting his damp, sweaty touch, but he held firm.

"Would you walk with me, Rebecca? There is sun outside, for a change, can you believe it? Not for long, I'm sure." His chubby cheeks were flushed from the cold, and his small eyes shined with good humor. "We won't go far, just to the abbey and back. You're too pale. You look tired, darling."

Rebecca nodded. She felt tired, practically numb. All those problems she couldn't share with anyone exhausted her. "Maybe a short walk would do me good. Thank you, Nathan. You've always been a good friend." She finally freed her hands. "I'll just go get my coat and shawl."

He mumbled something, but Rebecca didn't catch the words. She put on her warm gloves too, to prevent him from kissing her hands again, and inserted her hand in the crook of his arm. She hadn't seen him since the night of the assembly. Why did he come today?

They walked arm in arm, and Nathan's cheerful rumble soothed her agitation somewhat. He talked about the latest harvest and his tenants. He was a good man and a good landlord, Nathan, and his big body radiated heat and security. He would make someone a wonderful husband, but it wouldn't be her. Even for her sisters, she couldn't do that. After Alex's deliciously devastating kisses, she couldn't even contemplate anyone else kissing her mouth.

"Rebecca." Nathan stopped at the entrance to the abbey. The woods they had just passed lay behind them, bare and sad without their leafy finery, the naked boughs whispering moodily under the watery late-autumn sunlight. The brook circling the ruins was swollen from the recent rains. It grumbled along its bed, threatening to spill over. Happily the path they followed was well above the shore.

Rebecca pushed her unhappy musing out of her head and simply enjoyed the rare sunlight and the picturesque scenery. "Thank you for taking me for a walk, Nathan. I really needed it," she said softly and smiled at her cavalier.

"Please, marry me," Nathan blurted.

"What?" Rebecca's lips maintained her absent smile, while her mind processed his request.

"I adore you, you know I do." He pulled her roughly to himself and latched onto her mouth.

Rebecca whimpered and tried to free herself, tried to push him away, but his bulk was as immovable as a mount of lard. His saliva on her lips almost made her gag. No thoughts of England could help her endure his ardor for long. Fortunately he released her quickly and smiled in satisfaction. He had marked her as his, she realized. Even though he thought Alex was her brother, his male intuition probably nagged at his insides, warning him of the danger of losing her. Like a dog in the manger, he could condemn her to spinsterhood but he wouldn't cede her to another male.

Rebecca's fists clenched at her sides, clutching the fabric of her coat to prevent her from wiping off her violated mouth. His drying saliva on her skin made her shiver in disgust. She hoped her revulsion didn't show on her face. "Nathan," she whispered. She didn't want to offend him, no matter his motives. "You know your mama doesn't approve. I can't do it against her wishes."

She couldn't explain to him her real reasons for saying "no." A few short months ago, she would've said "yes" and rejoiced in her victory over his haughty mama, but now she couldn't. She loved Alex and couldn't simply discard that love before exploring every possibility. Alex might return soon. He might even marry her. He seemed to be fond of her sisters. Even if her dream of matrimony didn't come true, she'd rather be a spinster. If she hadn't been sure of that before, she was now.

"My mother doesn't rule my life," Nathan flared.

What an ill-chosen moment to launch a rebellion against his mama, Rebecca thought cynically. The poor, silly man. "Of course, not," she said aloud, "but she loves you. She wants only the best for you."

"You're the best for me," he said stubbornly. "I'll talk to your brother as soon as he comes home. Now you don't have to bring your sisters with you, right? They'll stay with him, and we can be happy together."

He made as if to grab her again, but she eluded his grasp, her palms upturned towards him, guarding against another salacious embrace.

"Please, Nathan. No. Not yet, anyway. I'm not ready." You're lying, you hypocritical woman, her subconscious screamed. She would never be ready for him.

Fortunately, he couldn't hear her thoughts. "Right. Of course. Your maidenly modesty. I'm sorry my passion overcame my senses." Breathing heavily and whizzing like an enraged boar, he stepped back.

"Please, go," she said. "I need to clear my head. I'll get home by myself. It's not far."

"Rebecca," he whined and swayed towards her, as if pulled by a string. "I love you so much."

"Please, Nathan," she begged. Recalling the vicar's unfortunate suspicions, she shamelessly piled up a guilt trip on Nathan's hapless head. "You don't want anyone to see us alone and start nasty rumors, do you? You know how people in the village talk." Of course, there wasn't anyone for miles around, not in such a cold weather, but Nathan didn't think clearly at the moment. By the time he gathered up his wits and his courage to talk to Alex, they would all be long gone. She hoped.

"No, no." He retreated, but his eyes pleaded with her. "I don't want to distress you." He didn't resemble a boar anymore but rather a lost, over-sized piglet, and her heart ached with pity for him.

When he disappeared into the woods after several desperate backward glances, Rebecca let out her pent-up breath. She would wait for half an hour, to give Nathan time to be truly gone, and then follow him to the manor. It wasn't too late in the afternoon, but the sun had already hid behind the clouds, and gray shadows filled the ruins.

By the time she started for home, purple dusk spread its elongated fingers between the trunks, meeting the mist rising off the moist ground. Rebecca could hardly see her feet and she stumbled more than once in the gloomy woods. She should've taken a torch, but hindsight was always useless. Clouds hovered low, heavy with rain, and the stripped trees glowered menacingly, whispering dire warnings of lies and false aspirations. Angry branches swished past her face in the freshening wind, as if trying to punish her for her presumptions. Roots buckled across the path, catching her toes, and she couldn't see farther than her outstretched hands.

Silly Rebecca, she chanted silently, fighting for composure. Don't be afraid. It's just wind in the woods. It would probably start raining soon. Nothing to be afraid of. The only risk you run is getting wet.

Her self-assurances didn't help. Her heart tumbled erratically. Cold sweat beaded her face despite the cold. She shook, and nausea threatened to overtake her. When a lit lantern glinted on the path some distance in front of her, she sagged in relief against a thick tree. Henry was coming with a lamp to help her home. The old man was always so solicitous.

"I'm here, Henry," she shouted. "Thanks for bringing the lamp."

The lantern rapidly approached.

"Here," she said again, guiding the shining lantern, lest it missed her in the dark.

It didn't. It stopped a few steps from her, only it wasn't Henry who held it. It wasn't anyone she knew.

She stared stupidly at the strange man, so surprised she wasn't even frightened. He was about Alex's age, maybe a few years older, dressed neatly, although his clothes had a feel of being worn for days without change. He reeked of an unwashed body, and his disreputable hat, pushed very low, left most of his face in shadow.

"Miss Carlyle," he said. "I thought I'd have to visit your charming manor, but you saved me the trouble. I've been in the neighborhood for almost a week. Where is your brother?"

"My brother?" Rebecca tried to recollect her thoughts. "Who are you?"

"I'm his friend."

He grinned, and that grin drove a wedge of terror into Rebecca's chest. Her nausea rose again, and she swallowed convulsively.

"We did some business together on the peninsula, but then he seemed to have forgotten about me. He disappeared." He tsk-ed. "He owes me money, and I'm here to collect. Miss." His insolent bow mocked her.

"He's in London," Rebecca whispered. Her dry mouth had trouble producing sounds. Had Alex been involved in some shady dealings with this fellow? Which Alex? Her real dead brother or her bogus living brother? Her knees turned to dough, and her head reeled. She would've fallen, if the sturdy trunk behind her back didn't support her weight.

"Well, I'll be watching your manor. As soon as he comes home, tell him Joshua came to call. I want my share."

"I..." she squeaked. "I'll tell him, but what if he refuses to pay?" If it was her real brother who owed money to this odious man, then Alex, the real Alex, didn't owe him a cent.

He smirked unpleasantly, his mouth a thin black distortion beneath the brim of his hat. "Your brother, Miss, sold military secrets to the enemy, with my help. If he doesn't pay me, I'll write to the high command. I have proof, some letters of his. How would you like it, if he was executed for treason?" He snorted. "He'll pay. I want five thousand pounds. For now. He has this pretty little manor and the money from his latest payout; he might as well share his fortune. Tell him to leave the money for me at the ruined abbey, the day he comes home. He should hide the package between the broken column in the western corner and the wall." He stepped back, turned abruptly, and melted into the dark woods.

His lantern flickered between the trees for a few moments longer, before it disappeared, and Rebecca was alone in the darkness. Her brother was a traitor? Or was it Alex, the man who in a few short weeks had become an integral part of their little family? The Alex her sisters admired? The Alex she loved. But did she really know him?

Tears started falling down her cheeks, but she didn't feel them. Her face was already wet from the rain. She hadn't noticed when it started. Cold and wet to her bones, she sobbed for a long time. She didn't know what to do.