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the table," she said.
    "Excellent idea."
    Jf5
    Together they took their cups and a plate of toast and sat across from each other -- after Cobbs had pulled out her chair and seated her. The tea tasted wonderful, and with the first few sips, Belinda smiled hesitantly and leaned back in her chair.
    "This is really good. I hke it."
    "That certainly makes my day."
    "YouYe from England, aren't you?"
    *What was your first clue?"
    Belinda's smile widened. "Your accent, of course. And you're very . . . stiff."
    Cobbs conceded with a nod.
    "So how did you end up here? Mrs. Thome says you've been with the family for a long time."
    Another nod. "My father worked for Mr. Thome's grandfather. We go back many years."
    Belinda hesitated, wanting to know . . . not sure she should ask. "Is Mr. Thome really . . . dying?"
    "He's in a coma. He knows no one. His body was severely crushed and burned. It's merely a matter of time."
    "I'm so sorry," Belinda mumbled, and hurried to change the subject. "I've always wanted to go to England. Do you miss it?"
    "I left when I was quite a young man. I've spent more of my life in this country now than the other."
    Belinda sipped thoughtfully at her tea, the warmth seeping through her body, sweet and relaxing. She could almost imagine that she'd never seen that cage in the other room. "Why are there snakes in the house?"
    "It's Mr. Thome's wishes. Eccentric, perhaps, but law."
    "But . . . aren't you afraid they'll get out?"
    Across from her the old man's face remained bland. "I Hve in terror."
    She shifted her eyes away as he caught her staring again, and her glance lighted on two gold-framed photographs arranged side by side on a windowsill. They were both boys she was sure she didn't know, and yet one of them seemed unsettlingly familiar.
    "Mr. Cobbs --"
    "Just Cobbs, miss."
    Belinda nodded. "Those pictures over there -- who are they?"
    **Why, the sons, of course."
    "Sons?"
    "Dear Uttle darlings of the household." He raised one shaggy eyebrow. "Mister Noel and Mister Adam."
    "Oh! Then that one on the left --"
    "Yes, miss. You met him upstairs. That's Mister Adam. Mr. Thome's son from his first marriage. Noel belongs to the Madame."
    "May I look?"
    Cobbs shrugged, and she crossed to the window, picking up each frame in turn. The boy called Noel was standing on a beach, his hair all windblown and sun-bleached, his eyes soft and hazel-colored, and there was a huge dog at his side. But Adam . . .
    Something caught in Belinda's throat as she gazed at the darkness of Adam. Defiance showed in every unsmiling line of his face -- his ruggedly
    handsome face -- not the face that had frightened her so upstau*s. His eyes and hair were raven black, his face tanned like Noel's, but more naturally, not just from the seasonal rays of the sun. He looked beautiful and evil at the same time, and Belinda felt tears filling her eyes.
    He was standing at the edge of a cliff, and he was straight and tall and unscarred --
    "Do you know\ anything about his accident?" Belinda's voice trembled, and she ran one finger over the smooth glass of Adam's cheek.
    "He doesn't talk about it. It's not my place to ask." Behind her she heard Cobbs get up from the table, and she hastily wiped her eyes. She turned and he was looking at her, but then he looked away, busying himself at the counter, chopping with his cleaver.
    "Do you ... do you happen to know how Mrs. Thome got my name?" she asked quietly.
    "I only saw a small card advertising your services. I assume she saw it posted somewhere."
    Behnda glanced over at him and replaced the picture on the sill. "Adam wouldn't let me see him," she said softly. "It was . . . scary."
    The cleaver paused in midair . . . lowered noiselessly to the countertop. "Some scars run deeper than those we can see."
    Puzzled, she turned and stared at his rigid back. "Mrs. Thome doesn't want him, does she?"
    A long pause, and then, "Not if she can possibly avoid it."
    And Belinda nodded, although there was no