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resting on one bent knee.

Miss Barome's eyes were closed with the bliss of the sun on her face, so she noticed nothing.

But Meriel looked between the duke, Stephen, and the stranger. The duke's tension had transferred itself to her, and she felt suddenly afraid, as if a dark cloud had moved between her and the sun.

What was wrong with her? There were many people walking the shore.

Softly, she said, "Shall I get your son, Your Grace?"

He shook his head without looking at her. "I'll go."

He rose to his feet smoothly and began to walk toward Stephen. She had an irrational urge to follow him, as if he couldn't protect his own son.

Protect him from what?

The duke reached Stephen before the stranger did and squatted next to the boy. Stephen gestured down at something, but didn't notice that his father was watching the man instead.

Meriel's stomach clenched as the man came ever nearer. The duke put an arm about Stephen's shoulder and turned him to face the sea, as if pointing out the ship that lingered on the horizon.

But he was putting his own body between Stephen and the stranger.

Perspiration broke out on Meriel's face. She clutched her skirts with damp fingers. What was going on?

The stranger was now within yards of them. She came to her knees without realizing it.

And then the man nodded pleasantly at the duke and just kept walking.

The duke rose to his feet, glancing over his shoulder at the stranger, then leaning down to answer something Stephen had said. Meriel sank back on her heels.

As the man reached them, he called out, "Good afternoon, Miss Barome."

The woman shielded her eyes and smiled. "A good afternoon to you, too, Mr. Sherlock." She introduced Meriel to him and said, "I was just mentioning to the duke that Ramsgate now has you for a new grocer."

"How kind of you, miss," he said, bowing and smiling and looking so harmless. "Didn't know the duke was in residence."

"He'll be here indefinitely, Mr. Sherlock. I'm sure you'll see him in town."

When the duke made no move to leave Stephen, the merchant finally left without an introduction.

Miss Barome frowned at the duke and shook her head. "Cecil could have at least come meet the man. But then he never does think of those things. Rather self-absorbed is our Cecil— as I'm sure you'll see, Miss Shelby."

Meriel nodded, but her eyes were for the duke, who didn't seem to pay attention as Mr. Sherlock left them. She could almost make herself believe she'd imagined the whole thing.

But she hadn't. And she deserved to understand what was going through the duke's mind, if she was to spend so much time with his son. She would ask to make an appointment to meet with him. They could discuss Stephen's studies, and she could ask if Stephen could have dinner nightly with his father.

And she could ask why the duke sensed danger on a sunlit beach.

    Chapter 4
    R ichard felt like a fool. Clearly the fears that Cecil had expressed to him had made him overreact to a simple stranger walking down the beach. Thank God that Renee had noticed nothing unusual about his behavior.

But Miss Shelby had. He had felt a connection between them from the moment they'd met, and it had only intensified. She knew damn well that he'd thought Stephen was in danger. He had kept waiting for her to question him, alerting Renee.

But she'd said nothing. Her face had gone pale, as if she'd understood the danger to Stephen.

She couldn't know anything of the sort.

But she'd gotten that impression from him. How was he supposed to convince her otherwise? He certainly could not have her on her guard, or soon she'd begin to suspect him .

He and Renee walked their horses back up the cliff path, following Stephen and Miss Shelby. When they reached the summit, he found himself wanting to put Stephen in the saddle with him, but it would be ungentlemanly of him to ride when Miss Shelby had no mount.

So instead he turned to Renee at the top of the cliff. "Let me see Stephen and Miss Shelby home, and