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paid by friends and relatives, and the activity of the summer harvest.
    Emma spent most of her time riding alone through the green countryside or working in the menagerie, located a quarter mile from Southgate Hall. The endless tasks of caring for her animals helped to take her mind off Adam. During the daylight she worked until her muscles ached, and at night she slept from exhaustion. But it was always there, the knowledge of what she had lost. She found it hard to accept that she would never be with Adam again.
    The worst part of the day was suppertime. Emma gulped down her food and left the table as soon as possible, unable to endure her family's presence. She had never been so angry with her father. Every moment of loneliness was his fault. Every night of solitary sleep was because of him. Her father had made a few apologetic overtures to her, but she had remained coldly unforgiving. As far as Emma was concerned, there was no chance they would ever resume the close relationship they had once had. Something had been broken that could never be repaired.
    It didn't matter that there was some truth to her father's claim that Adam had wanted her dowry. Of course the money had appealed to him—Adam had made no secret of that. But he had also cared for her. They would have had a good life together. Now that was gone, and Emma knew she would never be anyone's wife. She didn't intend to settle for some fat old widower or some half-witted bore just for the sake of being married.
    By now she had lost all her value in the marriage market. There were too many younger, prettier girls who came out each Season, and they were the ones who caught the only decent bachelors available. Her father and Tasia were blind to the flaws that everyone else saw in her. They didn't seem to realize that Adam had been her only hope.
    “Emma, do animals ever marry?” her six-year-old brother, William, asked one day as he watched her cleaning the chimpanzee pen. Its aging occupant, Cleo, combed her leathery fingers through William's black hair in a fruitless search for insects. The door to the building was left open, inviting any breeze that might find its way inside.
    Emma stopped her work and leaned on the rake handle, smiling at him. “No, William, not the way people do. But some kinds of animals mate for life. Wolves, for example. Or swans.”
    “What is a mate?”
    “It's like your mother and father—two creatures that stay faithful to each other their whole lives.”
    “Do monkeys mate for life?” William pushed Cleo's inquisitive hands away and glanced into her soulful brown eyes. The chimp pursed her lips and made a few inquiring grunts, reaching for his hair once more.
    “No,” Emma replied dryly, “they're not so discriminating.”
    “Do tigers?”
    “Not tigers either.”
    “But people mate for life.”
    “Most people,” she agreed. “When it's possible.”
    “And when they don't, they're spinsters. Like you and Cleo.”
    Emma laughed as she pulled clinging strands of straw from her clothes. “Something like that.”
    All at once a new voice entered the conversation. “Your sister is too young and lovely to be a spinster.”
    Emma and William both turned to see Nikolas Angelovsky standing at the threshold, in a patch of blinding sunlight. With a critical glance at the chimp, he added, “I'm afraid I can't say the same for Cleo.”
    Cleo squeaked and hooted as William rushed eagerly to the newcomer. It seemed, Emma thought wryly, that no one was immune to Nikolas's potent mixture of charm and mystery. “Prince Nikolas!” the boy said breathlessly. “ Zdráhstvuyti !”
    “ Zdráhstvuyti , William,” Nikolas said, crouching down to the boy's height. He smiled as William repeated the word perfectly. “What a fine accent. Your mother has taught you well. Only a boy with Russian blood like yours could say it so clearly.”
    “I have Stokehurst blood too,” William said proudly.
    Nikolas looked over the boy's dark head at