looked painfully thin, especially in the hideous oversize dress she was wearing, but her face had lost its pinched, starved look.
'I apologize for not telling you I was coming, but my trip was last minute. I didn't have time to send you word. Actually, I was looking forward to surprising you.'
Once more his gaze turned to Noelle. 'But it seems as though I was destined to be the one surprised. So, you can read now.'
'Mrs. Peale has been kind enough to teach me.' She kept her tones even and clear as Constance had instructed.
Simon gave his business partner an admiring grin. 'You really are a paragon, Connie. Is there anything you don't do well?'
Constance answered tartly. 'I'm not the paragon, Simon.
'So I see. Well, Noelle, now that you have learned to read, what is next? Painting? Music?' Then, eyeing her dress distastefully, he added, 'Fashion?'
Resignedly Noelle rose from her seat and faced them both. 'Nothing is next. I am going back to London.'
Simon's words went unheard in the force of Constance's protest. 'But, Noelle, I thought we agreed.'
'Yes, we did. And I have kept my part of the agreement,' she responded flatly, keeping her warring emotions well in check.
Suddenly, understanding dawned on Constance's face. 'You have discovered you are not carrying a child.'
Noelle nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak. She would never let either of them see how the decision to leave tore at her.
'When did you find out?'
'This morning.'
Even in her misery, Noelle had to suppress a smile as she saw Simon redden at the intimacy of the discussion and turn his eyes to the ground.
'And so, you chose today to read to me from
'Not 'believed,' Mrs. Peale. It was my last lesson.'
'Ridiculous!' Simon erupted. 'There is no reason that your lessons can't continue. I want you to stay right here.'
'No,' Noelle exclaimed more harshly than she had intended. 'I agreed to stay until I knew if I was carrying a child. Well, now I know I'm not, and that's that.'
Constance's eyebrows rose at the emotion in Noelle's tone. 'You are welcome to stay as long as you like.'
'No!' Gathering up her shawl, she faced Simon. 'Mr. Copeland, I would like to leave this afternoon if that is possible. Will you please honor our agreement and see that I am returned to London?'
She turned her back on the two and had begun to stride purposefully toward the house when Simon's hand caught her shoulder, and she was turned to face his anger.
'Dammit, Noelle, you're not going one step further until I hear what this is all about. What in the name of God is so special about your sordid little life in London that you're willing to give up all of this?'
Furious at his touch and at herself for wanting so much to abandon her pride and agree to stay, Noelle shook herself from his grasp and raged at him. 'It's none of your business why I want to go back to my sordid little life. It's my life, and it has nothing to do with you-or with you.' She stabbed her finger toward Constance.
Simon turned his anger on Constance. 'What the hell is she talking about?'
For a moment Constance was speechless. First Noelle shaking her finger at her, now Simon shouting. It was all too much! Her voice was tight with fury as she vented the indignation she had been suppressing for so long at Noelle.
'Why, you disagreeable little chit! How dare you speak so rudely. It will be a pleasure to have you out of my house. From the moment you arrived here, you have been insufferable, rebuffing every friendly overture I have made with insolence and hostility. And all without the slightest provocation from me.'
'Oh, I've had plenty of provocation. Why can't you be honest enough to admit it?' And then the words she had never intended to utter burst from her. 'You breeze through this house so sure of yourself. Your money, your upbringing, your education-they're all just the way they're supposed to be. It really is too much for you to be expected to take a pickpocket into your home, isn't it? Oh, but I forget, a woman of background must take pity on those less fortunate.' Emotion choked off any more of what she would have said.
There was something so agonizing in her face that Constance felt her own anger abating and began to speak more calmly. 'Noelle, you are mistaken. Oh, I have often thought what a shame it was that you did not have the advantages you so obviously should have had. But pity? No one could pity you. You are an intelligent young woman with a strong character, and I happen to hold those traits in much higher regard than I do upbringing and family background. I am not such an elitist as you seem to think.'
Refusing to listen to the part of her that said that Constance was speaking from her heart, Noelle chose to interpret her words as patronizing. 'Elitist!' Her voice was filled with scorn. 'What big words you hurl at the stupid little pickpocket. The poor, ignorant creature; so defenseless; such a burden.' She glared venomously at Constance. 'Well, you did your duty. You practiced your friggin' Christian charity so now your precious conscience can rest easy!'
'That's enough!' Simon's voice cut through the fragrant morning air of the garden like the crack of a whip. 'I will not have you abuse Constance any longer.'
Impatiently he thrust a hand through his thick, dark hair. What happened between these two strong-willed women to upset all his plans?
'You don't have to defend me, Simon. Now, if you will excuse me.'
Without so much as a glance in Noelle's direction, Constance walked toward the house, her tiny embroidered slippers making a soft, crunching sound on the gravel path. A robin, peacefully sunning himself near the house, flew up in alarm as the door of the house shut behind her.
Suddenly Noelle was overcome with shame. She had transferred her own pain at leaving into anger at Constance. Regardless of her motives, Constance had given her the most precious gift she had ever received, and Noelle was deeply in her debt.
'Mrs. Peale!' Gathering up her skirts, she ran toward the house. Roundly cursing both of them, Simon followed.
Constance had just reached the base of the staircase when Noelle caught up with her. 'Mrs. Peale, I'm sorry. I should never have said what I did. I owe you so much that I can never repay, and I am deeply grateful.'
Slowly Constance turned, knowing what it had cost Noelle's pride to admit she was wrong. 'I accept your apology.' She smiled faintly. 'Now, you must tell me why you have been so antagonistic to me. There is a reason, isn't there?'
Holding his breath, Simon watched as Noelle slowly nodded her head and then paused to collect her thoughts. Finally she said, 'I overheard you talking with Mrs. Finch about me on my first morning here.'
'Mrs. Finch? What on earth…?'
Slowly comprehension dawned on Constance's face and, with it, consternation. Mrs. Finch's accusations… her own attempt to placate the woman's injured dignity…
'Oh, my dear,' she cried, resting her hand on Noelle's arm. 'What a muddle. No wonder you have resented me so.'
'I've been waiting patiently, hoping that, if I kept silent long enough, I'd be able to discover what the devil is going on,' Simon interjected. 'Neither of you, however, seems to want to tell me. Now, by God, I'll have some answers.' His eyes were the color of pewter as he advanced on the women.
'Don't growl so, Simon. The whole thing is a frightful misunderstanding. Now, let's go into the drawing room, where we can unravel all this privately.'
She swept the two of them ahead of her into the magnificent gold and ivory room and then, closing the doors firmly, began.
'The morning after Noelle's arrival, Violet Finch came to me all in a flutter because she had heard from Letty how Noelle was dressed in London and had concluded that I was sheltering a harlot. Simon, you know what a sanctimonious snob she has always been. You also know she is probably the best cook in England and that, at one
