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It creates completely new ones. Much, much worse ones that not even money can fix.”
    “And now we’ve come to your fatal flaw,” Linley said, studying his face in the moonlight. “The one imperfection in your otherwise perfect life.”
    “My life is not perfect,” Patrick said.
    “Neither is mine.”
    He gave her a sad smile. “You’ve no idea how good you have it, Miss Talbot-Martin. The world is completely open to you—you can go anywhere at the drop of a hat. That sort of freedom is better than wealth.”
    “Wise words coming from a rich man.”
    “I would gladly trade with you,” Patrick said.
    “ My kingdom for a horse? ”
    Despite everything, he smiled. “My kingdom for packed bag and a steamer ticket to anywhere.”
    Linley shook her head. “You couldn’t bear the loneliness, the uncertainty. You’d be a month away from everyone and everything you know, with no guarantee you’d ever see them again. You would be grasping for an anchor before your boots got muddy.”

    ***

    Alone in the hotel courtyard, Linley eased down into one of the wicker lounge chairs and propped her sandy feet up, wishing she had a brandy and soda water. Or at least a glass of wine, just to take the sting out of it all.
    The Morocco trip had not turned out as planned. Her father should have seen the French ambush coming, and, in a rare moment of competence, Schoville turned out to be the one to save the entire expedition. Not Archie, or Reginald, or even herself, who usually came through in a pinch, but Schoville, who could always be counted on to muck something up.
    And then there was this business with Mr. Wolford. Very bizarre. The Good Lord did not just drop fascinating, handsome Englishmen into one’s lap every day. Especially not ones claiming to understand her deepest, most private feelings.
    But tomorrow Linley was leaving, and she knew she would never see him again. It was almost too cruel. She had never met anyone so unlike herself. Yet she had never met anyone so perfect for her in every way. Linley doubted she would ever make such an immediate connection with anyone else. And in only twenty-four hours since meeting him, she felt like Patrick Wolford had pulled her entire world out from under her feet.
    “What-ho,” Archie said, as he and Reginald sank down into two basket chairs beside her. “Where have you been all day?”
    “The souk , and to the beach for a bit,” she told them. “I met a friend.”
    Both Reginald and Archie looked at each other. “A gentleman friend?”
    “As a matter of fact, he was a gentleman.”
    “English chap?” Reginald asked. “Dark haired? Maybe a little taller than me?”
    “That’s the one.”
    He shook his head. “You shouldn’t go off with strange men, Lin.”
    “I know, but he turned out to be perfectly nice.”
    Archie downed the last swallow of the contents of the glass in his hand. “Yes, the hotel clerk assured us he was a very nice fellow, but you’re not a little girl anymore, and you are going to have to start worrying about men and their advances.”
    “Not everyone has honorable intentions,” Reginald added.
    “Yes, I understand that.”
    “Just see that you’re careful,” Archie told her. “Because God help the poor bloke that trifles with your heart while we’re on this Earth.”

CHAPTER SIX

    “A letter for you, Papa,” Linley said as she stepped out onto the veranda.
    Her father sat in his favorite chair, enjoying the view of Malta’s Grand Harbor from their villa. At the sound of his daughter’s voice, Mr. Talbot-Martin turned and smiled.
    “Another one from Schoville, I’m sure,” he said.
    “No…” Linley turned the envelope over in her hands, studying it. “It’s not from Schoville. This looks like a woman’s handwriting.”
    He took it from her and carefully pried it open. His eyes scanned the pages as he read, the look on his face betraying his astonishment at the words.
    Linley leaned toward him. “Who is it from? What