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Abruptly Sunny remembered that Justin had said that he hadn't looked at another woman since meeting her. She had thought that was merely a riposte in their argument, but if true, it might be an oblique declaration of love. Hesitantly she said, "Do you think it's possible that Justin loves me?"

"You would know that better than I. But he seems the sort who would be more of a doer than a talker." Katie's brows drew together. "Men are simple creatures, and for them, love and passion often get knotted up together. If he does love you in a passionate way, the kind of restrained marriage you have described must be difficult for him."

And if he was finding the marriage difficult, he would withdraw; that much Sunny knew about her husband. She had regretted the fact that he had never reached out to her with affection-yet neither had she ever reached out to him. Perhaps she was as much responsible for the distance between them as he was. Attempting lightness, she said, "I suppose that the way to find out how he feels is to hand him my heart on a platter, then see whether he accepts it or chops it into little pieces."

"I'm afraid so." Katie shook her head ruefully. "All marriages have ups and downs, particularly in the early years. I was once in a situation a bit like yours, where I had to risk what could have been a humiliating rejection. It wasn't easy to humble myself, but the results were worth it." She smiled. "A witty vicar once said that a good marriage is like a pair of scissors with the couple inseparably joined, often moving in opposite directions, yet always destroying anyone who comes between them. The trick is for the blades to learn to work smoothly together, so as not to cut each other."

That's what she and Justin had been doing: cutting each other. Feeling a century older than she had the day before, Sunny gave a shaky smile. "Apparently I must learn to speak with American bluntness."

"That's the spirit. But first, you might want to ask yourself what you want out of your marriage."

"Love, companionship, children. I certainly don't want to withdraw entirely from society, but the fashionable world will never be the center of my life, the way it is for my mother." Her brow wrinkled. "Perhaps if my parents had been happier together, my father would not have worked so hard, and my mother would not have cared as much about society."

"I've often suspected that many of the world's most dazzling achievements are a result of a miserable domestic situation." Katie considered. "You might want to wait until both you and Thornborough have had time to recover from what was obviously a distressing episode. You were about to take Alexandra to Paris, weren't you? In your place, I would carry on with my original plans. That will give you time to think and decide exactly how to proceed."

"I'm going to need it." Sunny rose and hugged her godmother. "Thank you, Aunt Katie. What can I do to repay you?"

"When you're old and wise like me, you can give worldly advice to other confused young ladies." Katie smiled reminiscently. "Which is exactly what I was told by an eccentric, sharp-tongued Westron aunt who sent me back to my husband when I was a bewildered bride."

Sunny nodded gravely. "I promise to pass on whatever womanly wisdom I acquire."

But before she was in a position to give good advice, she must fix her own frayed marriage. And that, she knew, would be easier said than done.

Chapter Ten

Alexandra looked eagerly from the carriage window. "Almost home! It's hard to believe that it's been only a month since we left Swindon. I feel years older."

Sunny smiled, trying to conceal her frayed nerves. " Paris has that effect on people. You really have changed, too. You left as a girl and are returning as a young woman."

"I hope so." Alexandra grinned. "But I'm going to go right up to my room and take off my wonderful Worth travel ensemble. Then I'll curl up in my window seat and read that new Rider Haggard novel I bought in London. Though Paris was wonderful, there's nothing quite like a good book."

"You've earned the right to a little self-indulgence." Sunny gave her sister-in-law a fond smile. Petite and pretty, Alexandra would never be called the Gargoylette again, and the difference was more than mere clothing. Now that Alexandra was free of her mother's crushing influence, she was developing poise, confidence and a quiet charm that would surely win her whatever man she eventually honored with her heart.

The carriage pulled up in front of the palace and a footman stepped forward to open the door and let down the steps. Even though Sunny had lived at Swindon for only a few months, and that interval had been far from happy, she felt a surprising sense of homecoming. It helped that the full glory of an English spring had arrived. All nature was in bloom, and the sun was almost as warm as high summer.

As they entered the main hall, Sunny asked the butler, "Is my husband in the house or out on the estate?"

She assumed the latter, for Justin was not expecting them to return until the next day. But the butler replied, "I believe that the duke is taking advantage of the fine weather by working in the Greek gazebo. Shall I inform him of your arrival?"

Sunny's heart lurched. She had thought she would have several hours more before confronting her husband about the state of their marriage, but perhaps it would be better this way. "No, I shall freshen up and then surprise Mm."

As she walked toward the stairs, a black-and-tan whirlwind darted across the hall and leapt against her, barking joyfully. "Daisy! Oh, darling, I missed you, too." Sunny knelt and hugged the slender little dog, feeling that such a warm welcome was a good omen.

A moment later, the wolfhounds thundered up and greeted Alexandra eagerly, then escorted her upstairs. Canine snobs of the highest order, they could tell aristocratic British blood from that of an upstart American, and they reserved their raptures for Justin and his sisters.

Sunny didn't mind. Her charming mongrel at her heels, she went to her room and changed from her traveling suit to her most flattering tea gown, a loose, flowing confection of figured green silk that brought out the green in her eyes.

She chose the costume with care, and not just because it was comfortable. The free and easy design of a tea gown was considered rather daring because it hinted at free and easy morals. She hoped that Justin would see her garb as the subtle advance that it was.

Because he always seemed to like her hair, she let it down and tied it back with a scarf. She needed all the help she could get, for she was terrified by the prospect of baring her heart to the man who could so easily break it. Apart from a brief note that she had written to inform Justin of their safe arrival in Paris, there had been no communication between them. For all she knew, he was still furious over Paul Curzon's kiss.

Fortunately, she had news that should mollify any lingering anger. God willing, it would also bring them together.

Chin high, she sailed out of the house and down the path toward the gardens.

A breeze wafted through the miniature Greek temple, carrying exuberant scents of trees and spring flowers. Justin scarcely noticed. He was hardly more aware of the pile of correspondence that lay on the cushioned bench beside him, for thoughts of his wife dominated his mind. All of his grief, guilt and anguished love had been intensified by that night of heartbreaking passion, when he had briefly thought that their spirits and bodies were in total harmony.

Sunny had sent him a single impersonal note from Paris. Though it gave no hint of her feelings, its civility implied that she was willing to go on as if nothing had happened.