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traveling, you know.”
    Her face softened. A bad traveler herself, he had picked on the one excuse she understood.
    “You should have said something, my lord,” she reproached him, moving closer to stare at him with motherly concern. “I would have prepared you one of my own special purges. Nothing like it for setting a queasy stomach to rights again.”
    “That’s not necessary, Mrs. Donovan.” Justin tried to keep her from seeing his shudder. Once, as a young boy, he had been visiting Maam’s Cross Court and had eaten too many green apples. Mrs. Donovan had dosed him with one of her famous purges, and the cure had been far worse than the ailment. Not even for the sake of his ward’s reputation would he suffer through that again.
    “Very well, my lord, if you say so.” From her tone, Mrs. Donovan would have dearly loved to argue with him, if she had dared. “With your permission, then, I’ll take the tray back downstairs. When a body’s sick, he don’t want to smell food!”
    She barely waited for Justin’s faint assent before snatching up the tray and heading for the door. Justin watched his dinner disappear with a feeling of inevitability. Going hungry to his bed would put the cap on a miserable day, he thought bleakly as the door closed behind the housekeeper.
    She had barely gone before Megan was scramblingout from under the bed. The minx was covered with dust—apparently the maids didn’t consider it necessary to sweep under his bed!—and grinning from ear to ear. Justin regarded her with a jaundiced eye, not bothering to get to his feet.
    “I hope you’re happy,” he said morosely. “You just cost me my dinner.”
    “I’m sorry.” The grin vanished; she sounded genuinely contrite as she crossed the room to stand looking down at him worriedly. “If you’re really hungry, I can raid the kitchen for you later. I used to do it all the time at school.”
    “I think I can live without eating for one night. Now get along to your own bed. Scoot!”
    “Are you sure? I’m really very good at it, you know!”
    “I’m sure!” Justin’s voice was firm. “Now get going before Mrs. Donovan decides to come back with one of her purges. And if she does, I swear I’ll strangle you!”
    Megan, who had experienced Mrs. Donovan’s purges herself, giggled at the image of her lordly guardian being forced to swallow a sickening draught while Mrs. Donovan looked on. Justin glared at her, then grinned reluctantly. Her laugh was infectious.
    “Get out of here!” he ordered, standing up. Megan, still chuckling, went to the door. “And for God’s sake, don’t let anyone see you!”
    “I won’t,” she promised, smiling at him over her shoulder. Then, with one hand on the knob, sheturned back to face him, saying, “I didn’t mean it, you know!”
    “Mean what?” Justin asked.
    “I don’t hate you, my lord,” she said softly, and before Justin could reply she whisked herself away.

CHAPTER 3
    Megan was humming tunelessly to herself as she came downstairs the next morning. The rain had stopped during the night, and the soft September sunlight matched her mood. She felt as if she’d been reborn, as if the person she’d been last night had been replaced by someone altogether different. Justin had come for her at last, making her feel as though he had some personal interest in her for the first time in all the years he had served as her guardian. It seemed as if she had spent her life in an ever-changing procession of schools. She had craved Justin’s attention; for the smallest sign that he cared about her. It hadn’t happened. Gradually, she had learned to resent and fear him. His word, it seemed, was law, and must be obeyed absolutely whether she liked it or not. Her letters to Justin, written dutifully once a week under the watchful eyes of her teachers, were answered just as dutifully by Charles Stanton. Her sole contact with Justin was for a few minutes perhaps twice a year. As a little girl,