this damp windy coast wherematerial possessions were treated with all the desperate care ofpoverty was almost inconceivable, particularly one that had beenallowed to get out of hand, judging by the brilliance of that light. Hehad nothing to lose at any rate, and if it were indeed a signal theneverything to be gained by having the dinghy on the beach waiting forthem. He gave the orders for the boat to be lowered and then resumedhia impatient pacing, ignoring the excitable foreign babble as hispassengers demanded to know what was happening.
"We will leave the horses here," Jules said as they reached the cliffhead. "They will find their way back or someone will find them." Hedismounted. "A thousand pardons, Danny, but I cannot carry you in myarms down that path to the beach." Danielle was about to say that shewas quite capable of walking now, when she found herself draped overhis shoulder.
"This is most undignified, Jules," she grumbled, bumping uncomfortablyas he began to leap down the steep path.
"Well, I am sorry for it, but it cannot be helped. And I am telling youstraight, Danny, if we come out of this one alive, none of us aremaking such a journey again."
Danielle said nothing. One of these days she was going to kill St.Estephe very slowly, but since she was sure Jules would not approve ofher bloodthirsty thoughts she kept them to herself.
"Odd's breath, there's the dinghy." Westmore crowed with delight. "Jakemust have seen the fire and drawn the right conclusions. What a strokeof luck!"
"We are certainly due for some," Philip said with absolute truth.
"Viens,
Jeanette." He took herhand and rap with her to the shore wherethe two sailors held the dinghy against the crashing surf.
Danielle sat huddled in Julian's cloak on the thwart, watching the coverecede as the powerful arms of the oarsmen bore them away from thenightmare. In three days she-would be back with her son and maybe therewould be some news. Black spots danced before her eyes and thestrangest sensation crept up her neck, like being enclosed in a grayfog ....
Tony caught her as she slumped sideways and began chafing the whiteface. But she was out for barely
a minute and came to, mutteringapologies even before her senses had fully returned. "It is perhapsbecause I have had little food," she mumbled, struggling upright.
"Lie still." Tony put her head back in his lap. "It will not be longnow."
Half an hour later Jake had the anchor taken up with an overpoweringsense of relief. Ominous clouds scudded across the evening sky and thewind was coming in unpredictable spurts that gathered strength
as theyacht moved into open water. The coastline offered no safe shelter withits riptides and concealed reefs and, unable to hug the shore, they hadno choice but to put to sea. It was going to be a very long roughvoyage, Jake thought, wondering grimly how those refugee passengerswere going to manage in their cramped quarters below decks.
* * *
Justin paced the long drawing room at Mervanwey, fighting thehelplessness, the hopelessness of his frustration. He could make noplans until
Dream Girl
returned, could only renew his relationship with
his son—an immensely rewarding process, but Nicky asked constantly forhis mother and was happiest
in the rose garden where his father heldhim as they sat on the low wall both gazing at the noncommittal sea,waiting.
Lavinia looked at the man she now loved as if they were tied by blood,as helpless to help him as she was to help herself. They had dined atfive o'clock, keeping country hours as usual. Nicky had been broughtdown in his nightgown to eat sugar plums and almonds, nestling in hisfather's lap as they took dessert before Justin carried him to bed,told one of the stories from his own childhood that returned withamazing ease to memory. It was nine o'clock and the November windbattled against the windowpanes.
"D'ye care for a game of piquet, Justin?" Charles asked as his wifeplied her embroidery needle.
"By all means." Justin came over to the crackling fire. "I am poorcompany these days. I beg pardon . .."
"
Tiens!
You have tried mypatience beyond bearing. I cannot help itthat you are wet and that it is a steep climb from the beach. If you donot care for your hospitality, I suggest you swim back to France whereI am certain Madame Guillotine will make you most welcome!" Theunmistakable voice rose in exasperation from the hall and the three inthe drawing room gazed at each other in wonder and disbelieving hope.
The door burst open. "
Grandmere,
I do beg your pardon. You must havebeen in such a worry but . . ." Danny stopped on the threshold."Justin?" Six months hadn't changed him at all, except for the drawnlook about his eyes.
"Danny, you wretched little vagabond!" It was the most extraordinarysalutation from a man who hadn't seen his wife in six months and who,for the last week, had assumed that she was dead. For Danielle theywere the most wonderful words. She sprang across the room and into hisarms, heedless of the tiresome group crowding the doorway or the softexhalations of relief from her colleagues.
Justin kissed her, hugged her, feeling the remembered pliancy under hishands, the firm yet soft lips beneath his own. He pushed the cap fromher head and gasped in sudden outrage at her cropped head. "Brat, how
dare
you
