Silence reigned for a very long time, disturbed only by the occasionalsplash of water and the soft murmur as the earl refilled his glass. Theafternoon sun left the room and Danielle wrestled with the problem ofhow she was to get out of the bath while retaining what little modestyremained to her.
"Milord," she said eventually. The only response was a slightstiffening of those broad shoulders, but confident that she had hisattention she continued. "Since you have torn my shirt I am insomething of a puzzle as to how I should clothe myself. The water isbecoming a little chilly, you see," she added in apologetic explanation.
"Those clothes of yours are fit only for the furnace" came the rumbledreply.
"In that case, milord, what do you suggest? Perhaps you wish me toremain naked for your pleasure?"
The insolently dulcet tones brought the hairs on his spine to pricklyrigidity.
"
Mon enfant
, I most ferventlysuggest you watch your tongue. Unless, of course, you've a mind to add
to your bruises." Rising swiftly, Linton strode with the hard-paddedpace of a caged tiger across the room to the large cherrywood armoire.He selected a soft lawn shirt with lace edging to sleeves and neck andtossed it beside the tub. The small figure shrank beneath the scummywater as his eyes ran lazily over her.
"If you do not wish to come out as dirty as you went in, I also suggestthat you get out now." He turned back to the window and withconsiderable relief Danielle hauled herself out of the disgustinglydirty water. It seemed that her savior/captor, whilst not averse tomaking certain physical threats appropriate to the treatment of arecalcitrant child, was not interested in molesting her as a woman. Therealization, though
it brought relief, also paradoxically brought a sense of pique thatsurprised and annoyed her. She had played the boy for so long now itwas ridiculous that she should be offended by this refusal toacknowledge what she had once been taught to accept were notinconsiderable charms.
She dried herself hastily, casting anxious glances at the averted back.She hadn't been this clean for months—a quick dip in a horse trough ora rough, freezing scrub under a backyard pump had heen the best shecould manage and she now inhaled deeply of the soapy clean fragrance ofher warm dry limbs. The lawn shirt caressed her body with itsunfamiliar soft fineness and her fingers fumbled with the delicatepearl buttons in her haste to cover herself before the figure at thewindow turned around. What had the landlord called him? . . . Ah,Milord Linton, that was it. An English name, surely? But his French wasimpeccable.
"Are you dressed?" the cool voice questioned.
"I would hardly describe it as such," Danielle snapped, conscious ofthe expanse of bare leg revealed beneath the shirt. She had beenbrought up to believe that the merest glimpse of an ankle denoted theheight of immodesty—although why this should be so when one'sdecolletage left little of the bosom to the imagination had always beena puzzle.
The earl got up and strode toward her. "Your want of conduct, myungrateful vagabond, is deplorable."
* * *
Danielle backed away hastily from the soft, almost gentle voice, but ahand caught the damp mop of
curls and long fingers twined themselves firmly, forcing her to remainstill. Her chin was taken between long fingers of his other hand andtipped remorselessly upward so that she could not evade the intent,frowning scrutiny of blue black eyes under well-shaped brows. Having nochoice, she returned the look boldly, noting in her turn the wide,intelligent forehead beneath unpowdered black hair, firm curved lips,uncompromising jawline, and slim, aristocratic nose. It was a handsomeface, albeit carrying a hint of cynicism about the mouth and eyes, aslightly bored, world-weary air.
The earl was examining a small, heart-shaped face dominated by a pairof enormous liquid brown eyes. The little nose was impudent in theextreme and the delicate jaw, whose fragility he could feel beneath hisfingers, carried an arrogant determination matched by the set of whatwas undoubtedly an adorable little mouth. The layers of dirt appearedto have done no damage to the ivory complexion, which flushedbecomingly under his studied concentration.
"Are you quite satisfied, milord?" Danny attempted to pull her chinaway, knowing she was playing with fire but unable to bear the scrutinyany longer.
Fortunately, His Lordship chose to ignore the sarcasm although hisfrown deepened and the fingers tightened on her chin.
"No, I'm not satisfied," he declared slowly. "Your features are veryfamiliar, but I cannot for the moment place them. However, you shallhelp me on that score very soon." Abruptly the fingers left her jaw andhair and Danielle turned away hastily to hide a tremulous lip. He couldnot force her to declare her identity, to tell the story that she hadburied deep in the recesses of her mind almost as effectively as shehad buried the gently bred aristocrat under the layers of dirt. Orcould he? For the first time she felt a twinge of doubt as to herability to pursue the path she had set for herself after that night ofhorror. Could she have seen the earl's face at this moment, she mighthave felt slightly reassured. Watching the effort of this indomitablewaif to keep her shoulders squared and back straight, Linton fell preyto a series of most unusual emotions—compassion, an overpowering desireto know the whole, and, most surprising of all, a need to help. How torid her of the obstinate refusal to accept his help and to trust himwas the puzzle.
"Danielle, I suggest you remove yourself to the darkest corner of thechamber while the room is set to rights again and our dinner is broughtin." He made his voice deliberately brisk and was rewarded by hersudden whirl as she turned in surprise toward him. "You see," he addedapologetically, "you bear no resemblance to the urchin I dragged inhere. In fact, only a blind man would fail to recognize you for
what you
