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equally
noble-born daughter.
    Another reason to steer clear of the woman.
    “He’s got a crush on her,” Monty said abruptly. “Del does.
He was Star’s first fiancé, but we don’t generally count him because they were
only twelve at the time.”
    “First fiancé?” Nick asked, turning. “How many has she had?”
    “Six, and never intended to marry one of them. She toys with
them, rather like a cat with a mouse right before it goes in for the kill.
And,” he said, “I’m afraid you’re her next mouse, old man.”
    Six ? “Yeah, I know, you told me already,” Nick said,
muscles tensing. “Married to her woman’s movement and all that. I’m a mite
bigger than a mouse, Monty.”
    Monty grinned. “True, but . . . you understand, it’s merely
that I value your friendship.”
    Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw Miz Montgomery grab
Huntington’s arm and then sink into a chair behind her. Her face turned ghost
white. “Damn,” Nick swore and, ignoring caution, strode across the room.
    ***
    For a short spell, Star felt like she’d fallen into one of
her nightmares, the ones that had haunted her for months after Minnie’s death.
They’d returned of late, nightmares of demons lurking in attics and basements
and locked rooms, threatening to break free and come after her. Instead, it had
found Bella. A shiver ran down her spine and into her belly.
    “What,” Star said, holding tightly to Del’s wrist, “what
happened to her?”
    “It was an accident, sugar. An overturned coach, returning
from a ball one night.”
    “An overturned coach? But how—surely a broken arm or—oh no,
it’s not possible. She can’t be dead . Del, not—not after Minnie,” she
said dropping her hand.
    Minnie was Bella’s older sister. After she’d recovered from
the pain of Minnie’s death, Bella had been almost insane with rage. Star had
done her best to direct that rage into the movement, Horatio Burke’s abuse
being outside of legal prosecution. She’d had mixed results—Bella had joined
the movement, and her energy and oratory skills had made her something of a
rising star. Still, she’d never quite given up on revenge and she’d harangued
Burke from time to time.
    Del shoved a stray lock of hair from his dark eyes. “It
seems rather a lot of misery for one family to suffer. But she is dead,
sugar. We went to her funeral.”
    “When?” she asked, holding his gaze, only partly aware of
two other people moving into place on either side of her. Lee—and Nicholas.
    “Two weeks ago. We thought to telegraph you, but decided we
ought to deliver such news in person. We didn’t, however, expect to drop such a
weight upon Lee’s wedding,” Del said, turning to Lee. “I apologize, old man, we
held off as long as we could, but apparently Bella made a bit of a stir out
here at a rally she attended last spring. The Rocky Mountain News picked
up the story of her death just this morning and I wanted Star to hear the news
from a friend instead of reading it.”
    “Understood,” Lee said, as Star lifted her head to him.
    “You knew,” Star said.
    “Del informed me yesterday. I’m sorry, Sis. I know you loved
Bella.”
    Loved Bella? No. She had respected Bella, however, and the
movement could not really afford to lose good speakers. Moreover, Bella was—had
been—a Kingston, a name that opened more doors in New York than Montgomery ever
would. Still, for all their same interests, she and Bella had never had more
than a working relationship. They’d never shared confidences like Star had with
Minnie.
    As always, recollections of Minnie stabbed at her heart, and
then sent guilt, like acid, flowing through her veins, mixing with the shaking
in her belly to form nausea.
    “Who’s Bella?” Nicholas asked.
    Star turned to look at him. Dressed in a borrowed tuxedo
suit, the object of her obsession looked as comfortable as a fish out of water.
The suit fit poorly—too loose here, too tight there and he’d pulled at