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stepped down. The highway ran along the high central spine of Cornwall. Open moor and stone-fenced fields dropped away on both sides of the road. In the west, in a glory of blazing color, the sun was sinking over the horizon.
    Captain Acton laughed. It was a sound of pure delight, with no hint of that underlying shadow. He grasped the brass handles at the side of the carriage and swung himself up to stand beside the astonished coachman. He stood for a moment, silhouetted against the sky, a slight breeze ruffling his bright hair. Helena gazed up at him. Something strange and dangerous twisted at her heart.
    The coachman climbed down to stand at the horses’ heads.
    “Come,” Captain Acton said, reaching a hand down to her. “It’s stunning from up here.”
    The clean, strong bones of his wrist beneath his shirt cuff were highlighted by clear shadows in the fading light. Their pure beauty pierced her to the heart.
    She hesitated. “I told you I had a very staid upbringing, Captain Acton. I’m not used to climbing on carriages.”
    He laughed. “You will be quite safe. No harm will come to you at my hands, I assure you. Do you know, I could never resist such a sunset.” He gave her a wicked smile. “Once in Africa—”
    “You were in Africa?” Helena asked.
    “Come up and I’ll tell you.”
    She held up her hands and he grasped them. His lean fingers easily took her weight, and in the next instant she was beside him. He put an arm about her waist to steady her.
    “North Africa. I thought it would improve my education if I traveled all around the Mediterranean.”
    “And did it?”
    “It certainly improved my appreciation for my homeland.”
    “But you have been away for so long—seven or eight years, you told me.”
    “The education took a while to sink in. I’m a dreadfully slow learner, you see. Africa was the first lesson.”
    And then he created a compelling, shining picture of that year of his life: of camels, of Bedouin, of pyramids. Yet she had no clear idea of what he was doing there, and the fact that it had been a dangerous mission was one she had to glean between the words. As he told it, North Africa was only a charming, amusing adventure.
    “It was a great disadvantage to be fair,” he finished with a grin. “Now, hush, and let the sunset do its work.”
    They stood together as the colors deepened and streamed across the sky. His breathing was steady and reassuring at her back. His arm tightened just a little, holding her against his firm chest. Helena had never felt so safe. She wanted desperately to lean into his strength. Yet she wasn’t used to being touched. It had been years, hadn’t it, since her childhood nurse had cuddled her on a warm lap?
    “There! It goes,” Captain Acton said. “Now we must hurry or we’ll not reach Bodmin before dark. I have told you one of my adventures. Now you must tell me tales of Cornwall. Were there ever smugglers at Trethaerin House?”
    The spell was broken. He helped Helena down off the carriage and back to her seat. Half an hour later they rattled into the inn yard at the Dog and Raven. The innkeeper showed her to a room and she was sent up supper on a tray. Of her prospective bridegroom she saw no further sign.
    Restlessly, she paced about for a while. Captain Richard Acton was undeniably attractive, yet what had she learned? He liked books. He had traveled. Meanwhile, she was uncomfortably aware that she had been gently but thoroughly manipulated. She had been so entertained that she had not had time to grieve for her childhood home, nor to give a moment’s thought to what she was about to do, but he had revealed nothing more of himself than was exactly calculated to reassure her.
    The realization of quite how skillfully he had managed to prevent her finding out more about him, however, had quite the opposite effect. What would her future bring if she married him? Would she be a pawn in the hands of this fascinating man while he kept himself