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human, in excruciating pain.
    The noise increased as she started down the last stretch. At the end of this lane was the last corner before the maze's center. But her legs turned to lead, and she could go no further. Against her instincts, in a kind of trance, she fell to her knees. She heard only the pounding of her heart as her palms met the cool grass and her eyes found a gap in the undergrowth.
    They lay entwined on the ground: squirming, grinding, panting. The lady was not pale, thin, and freckled. No, no, she was Lady Ferrers—beautiful, voluptuous Lady Ferrers. And Robert…
    Oh, God. Robert. The world spun, turned hazy and ugly. Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. She was suffocating, stabbed by each glimpse of stocking-clad legs, naked thighs, and frenzied, open-mouthed kisses.
    Robert! His name became a scream inside her head, a wail whose echo lingered as she scrambled to her feet and stumbled away. The ache in her chest swelled; a cloud crept in front of the sun, and the walls closed in on her.
    Her breath came out in shallow, hitched gasps. He dared? He did! He dared… touch another woman! Was he not promised to her? What was he… why would he…
    Oh! He was a rat. A dishonorable, faithless, despicable rat.
    A painful knot welled in her throat, and her eyes burned as she fought back tears. How foolish was she, to think a grown man such as Robert could love her as she loved him? Had he befriended her out of duty? Yes; that, or kindness. Or sympathy. Another scream rose, and her head burst with the effort to suppress it.
    A rat. He was a rat. And she would not marry him. No, never, never—
    Sharp pain stabbed through Georgie's temple, jerking her awake. She caught her breath, grasped for something to hold on to, and found a velvet lapel that curled softly within her hand.
    The carriage hit another dip in the road, but this time she was awake and able to steady herself before her head would have hit Phillip's hard shoulder again. Gazing up at the pointed contours of his face, illuminated faintly by moonlight, she waited for him to wake. But his chest continued to fall and rise undisturbed, and at last she pushed away, sliding over to the opposite corner.
    Her pulse galloped wildly, and she closed her eyes and sucked in deep breaths. Why was she rattled? She couldn't fathom—oh,
the dream.
    Except it wasn't a dream. It was a memory. A vivid, all-too-real memory that hadn't plagued her since Phillip came into her life. Its return was not at all puzzling, as it coincided with Robert's.
    No, she had never forgotten that day. She had, however, thought the bitterness and hurt gone by now. Had thought that only disgust remained.
    In Georgie's eyes, Robert had been as good as married, to
her
, which had made his offense unforgivable. She saw the ridiculous in it now, of course. He had been a grown man. Considering she had been only thirteen, it would have been disturbing if he had reciprocated her feelings.
    But despite being aware of the childish and unreasonable nature of her disfavor, the hurt remained. It had taken years, but she had eventually come to consider the incident as a blessing, for it had made obvious what a fool she'd been.
    Leaning back and letting her head bounce off the yielding squabs, she opened her eyes and fastened them again on Phillip. Warmth filled her; she felt at ease, comfortable. Happy.
    Yes, a blessing the Rat's rendezvous in the maze certainly had been. And his homecoming, and that cursed dream, served only to remind her of it. That was all.
    "YOU WANTED TO see me?"
    Robert looked up from the papers before him. His brother hovered in the study doorway, looking surprisingly neat. Last night's escapades, whatever they were, had left no obvious marks on him. And he still wore evening clothes.
    Incredulous, Robert asked, "Did you just return?"
    Tony shrugged, folding his arms. "What of it?"
    Robert glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. "It's nine in the morning!"
    "I know, and I'd