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she had been sick to her stomach for days before one of Justin’s visits, hoping against hope thatthis time, this time, he would unbend a little, perhaps smile at her with more than the bare civility that was all he ever showed her. Perhaps he might even take her out for a macaroon and an ice as all the other fathers did when they visited their daughters.
    But it never happened, and Megan had finally brought herself to accept the fact that it never would. She had told herself rather fiercely that she should be grateful to him for troubling himself about her at all, when she had no real claim on him. The other girls, with smug schoolgirl superiority, assured her that, if Justin hadn’t made her his ward, she would be lucky to work for one of them as a maid. Megan had blackened more than one eye in defense of her background, and had, in consequence, been disciplined for her unladylike behavior. Over the years, she had built Justin up into a combination of ogre and savior, while still convincing herself that one day, when she was a grown-up lady, he would be proud of her and tell her so. Comforting herself with this fantasy, she nevertheless deeply resented her guardian’s neglect. It was this resentment, coupled with her natural high spirits, which was constantly getting her into so much trouble at school.
    Then, when Justin stopped coming at all, her first deep hurt had turned to anger. She vowed to make him take notice of her, and had exerted every ounce of her considerable ingenuity toward achieving that end. Last night, when she had seen him glaring at her from the door of the blue salon, her feelings were a mixtureof triumph and apprehension. At last, she had succeeded in attracting his attention.
    Anger had prompted her impulsive visit to his bedroom; when she discovered him in his bath, she had almost run away. Instead, she had squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and vowed to make him listen to her for once. His attitude of icy command was just what she had expected; she had hated him so much she could have killed him. But then, when her overwrought sensibilities had betrayed her, and she had burst into tears like some ninny, she had gotten the shock of her life. The inaccessible Justin had actually been kind! When he held her, sobbing on his lap, she had felt more warmth and security than she had ever known in her life. It seemed that he did care about her, after all, and that knowledge had turned her world around.
    “Morning, Miss Megan,” Mrs. Donovan called placidly from the breakfast room, where she was setting a place at the table. Megan blinked once, brought back to the present with a start, then leapt gaily down the remaining three steps, careless of the wide skirt of her girlish white muslin dress that billowed upward as she moved. Smiling, she crossed the hall to join Mrs. Donovan.
    “Isn’t his lordship up yet?” Megan asked with some disappointment. There was only one place setting on the long, polished oak table.
    Mrs. Donovan awarded her a warm smile. “You can rest easy, my lamb. He’s eaten and been out this hourand more. Likely we won’t see him again until dinner.”
    “Oh.” Megan sat down at the table, feeling that the morning had fallen flat. She had looked forward to sitting down to breakfast with her guardian for the first time. But then she remembered that he had had no dinner the night before, and must have been fairly starving this morning. Of course he had hurried down to breakfast. A small smile curved her mouth as she remembered how loudly his stomach had growled.
    “I don’t think you have to worry overmuch, lamb,” Mrs. Donovan told her. “His lordship don’t seem to be in a temper. Why, he told Tom—Donovan, that is—that he was prepared to forget all about last night, so that probably means that he won’t be too hard on you neither.”
    “I’m sure you’re right, Mrs. Donovan,” Megan answered with a smile. Apparently last night’s unorthodox call on her