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hung in the room and reverberated throughout every nerve in Athena's body. She felt herself tremble with the impact of it, for it had struck home. Had she not asked herself the same question more times than she cared to remember? In truth, had she not asked Peregrine himself the very same thing?
    Athena closed her eyes briefly, willing this odious man and his impertinent, disturbing interrogation to go away and leave her to enjoy the summer morning exploring the garden she had glimpsed from her bedroom window. She longed for Peregrine's comforting presence. When she was with him, the sunshine of his smile and his perennial good humor kept all these doubts at bay. Lord St. Aubyn's probing questions only magnified her secret reservations about her betrothal to his son.
    She opened her eyes and looked at him, wondering whether it would do any good to plead with the earl not to stand in the way of his son's happiness. And of her daughter's future, she reminded herself with her usual honesty.
    The look she saw in his cold gaze froze the words on her lips.
    "You must think me a veritable harpy, my lord," she murmured instead. "Surely you cannot believe that I would deliberately do anything to hurt Peregrine. He is as dear to me as my own daughter."
    The earl snorted derisively. "If that is true—which you will give me leave to doubt—you will pack your trunks and leave St. Aubyn Castle this afternoon. My carriage is at your disposal, madam."
    Oh, I am sure it is, Athena thought dispiritedly, watching the angry grimace of disgust mar the handsome lines of the earl's face. She had expected some resistance from Peregrine's family, but what Lord St. Aubyn proposed amounted to open rejection.
    The realization that she was not acceptable to her betrothed's father reminded Athena painfully of her betrothal to Major John Standish ten years ago. John's father, the earl, had turned an alarming shade of purple when they had appeared before him to seek his sanction for the match. Athena's father, Sir Henry Rothingham, had been more than pleased with his only daughter's proposed alliance with a prominent family like the Stan-dishes, but John's father had refused to countenance the union. John had argued and pleaded to no avail, and in the end had defied the head of the family and married her anyway. Retribution had been swift and drastic. The earl had cut off John's allowance from the estate and banished them both from Standish lands.
    And now the whole ugly situation was repeating itself. Was she doomed to bring strife to all those dear to her? Athena wondered.
    "And naturally, you will persuade Peregrine not to accompany you back to London," she heard the earl add.
    The thought struck her that Peregrine must have put up a stronger fight for her than she had given him credit for. The earl's words suggested that her easy-going Perry might be prepared to sacrifice his home, his beloved father, and perhaps even his allowance for her sake. The notion of such loyalty, I misguided though it was, touched her deeply.
    "You are asking me to give up a lot, my lord," she murmured, silently vowing that she would never permit her darling Perry to make the disastrous sacrifice John had made for her so long f ago. She had not the heart to subject a boy to the misery of being cut off from his loved ones. Not that John had uttered a single word of complaint, of course, but Athena had discovered over the years just how much it had cost her husband to wed her.
    Lord St. Aubyn's smile sent shivers down Athena's spine. "I I am prepared to make it well worth your while, madam," he drawled, dark eyes fixed upon her mercilessly.
    "Worth my while?" Athena repeated, puzzled at the veiled flash of triumph she glimpsed in the wolfish gaze. "Whatever can you mean, my lord?"
    "Do not play the innocent with me, madam," he snapped, lips curled in a cynical sneer. "I am prepared to offer you three thousand pounds to release my son from any imagined obligation he may fancy,