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against his throbbing head.” You received a blow from a branch, which rendered you unconscious. But do not worry, you’ve been brought back to the house and a physician is in attendance.” 
    A face swam into his vision - anxious green eyes, a halo of tawny hair.” Elizabeth?” he croaked. “What are you doing here?”
    “It’s me - Angelina.” The eyes became all the more anxious.” Have you forgotten who I am, James?” 
    “How could I forget.” Lights exploded in his head when he tried to smile. “I beg your pardon, Angelina. I seem to be addle-brained at the moment.”
    “And no wonder, My Lord. If your shoulder hadn’t taken the brunt of the blow your skull would have cracked like an egg.”  The owner of the deeper voice moved into his vision. Fingers were raised, eyes examined. “Good...good...no lasting damage seems to have been done.” He tasted laudanum when a glass was raised to his lips. “You must rest, now, My Lord. I’ll return on the morrow.”
     Worry laced Angelina’s voice. “Will my brother return to full health?”
    “He’ll suffer from a headache for a day or two, and may feel an urge to vomit when he wakes. Have a servant on hand in case he needs assistance.”
    “I’ll stay myself. The accident was my fault, after all.”
    Her fault? James had no intention of letting Angelina suffer remorse over the incident. “Nonsense,” he managed to say, his words slurring a little as the laudanum started to take effect. “You cannot be blamed for a tree branch falling on my head. My man is at the Royal Hart Inn. Send a servant to explain, and bid him to attend me immediately.”
    “But, James....” Angelina began, only to be interrupted by the physician’s firm voice.
    “Later, my dear.” 
    The voice became a slow sonorous echo coming from the depths of a well.
    “The sedative’s taking effect. Explanations will only serve to confuse him.”  The physician leaned over him, addressing him as if he were profoundly deaf. Which was just as well, thought James, for his ears were buzzing like a hive full of bees.
    “Do not worry about anything, My Lord. I’m passing by the Royal Hart and will inform your servant myself.” 
    The physician’s face blurred as it floated off into the distance. James had never encountered such a soft bed. Sucked into its feathery folds, he panicked, momentarily struggling to hold on to conscious thought. For one lucid moment he stared directly into the eyes of the man in the portrait. Then the disapproving countenance began to revolve, faster and faster, until it spun off into the darkness and disappeared into nowhere.
    * * * *
    The eulogy seemed to be taking forever. Angelina slanted a glance at James, wondering if he was as bored as she. His face was grave, and he seemed to be paying close attention to the words Reverend White spouted about Lady Alexandra.
    Except for the remains of a bruised swelling concealed amongst his hair, James seemed to have recovered quickly from his ordeal at the hands of Bessie. To her everlasting relief he’d reacted with amusement when she’d told him the true story of his injury.
     Affection for him stole into her heart. She’d grown to like and respect her brother over the past two days, especially when he’d had the sensitivity to summon the remorseful Bessie into his presence and commend her for being a loyal servant to her mistress.
    Angelina sighed as the reverend’s voice droned on, and she tried not to wriggle. The black dress she’d found in Lady Alexandra’s wardrobe was hot and itchy. The church was packed for the memorial service and smelled ripely of massed humanity. How could her brother sit there with such an engrossed expression on his face?
       Then she saw that he was watching a spider crawl up the pulpit. Her glance went from the spider to the parson’s wife. The woman’s eyes were intent upon the creature too, and her nose quivered like that of an eager bloodhound.
    Armed with