Hattie opened the door to her father's sitting room. It was full of many familiar things, yet it felt like it was no longer her father's space. He had taken only a few small precious personal items with him to Sierra Leone, but the loss of even those had changed the soul of the room.

She looked at the new gold, black, and tan Abyssinian rug which had taken the place of her father's orange and black striped one. She had to hand it to Will, he had excellent taste. The colors in the rug matched those of the six fine china plates which now hung on the wall.

She crossed to the plates. Expertly painted scenes of the ancient world adorned each plate. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch them.

“Absolutely beautiful,” she whispered.

“Yes, and they cost me a pretty penny,” said Will.

She turned to see him leaning nonchalantly against the door frame. How long he had been there, she had no idea. He could move like a silent wraith when the mood so took him.

“Am I permitted to ask what happened to the Littles?”

If Will had terminated their services she would never forgive herself.

“Mr. Little is in your old bedroom making up the fire and checking that the room is ready for you. Mrs. Little is downstairs in the kitchen boiling water so we can all have some of the hot chocolate I purchased earlier this morning at Fortnum and Mason. There is nothing better than a cup of cinnamon spiced Spanish chocolate after a trying evening,” he replied.

Hattie began to shake uncontrollably. Tension and nerves, she had denied over the past days finally surfaced.

“I'm sorry, so sorry for everything I have done,” she cried.

Will closed the door behind him and came to her side.

He put a hand to her cheek and lifted her head. Their gazes met. To her surprise she saw pain and anguish in his eyes.

“Oh Hattie,” he murmured. She heard the rough desire in his voice.

He drew her into his embrace. His lips descended upon hers in a fiery caress. He was not tender or kind, but it was exactly the passionate kiss she knew he needed to give at this moment. She yielded her mouth to his, releasing her pent-up guilt into the encounter. He pulled her hard against him, and she felt the familiar hardness of his manhood. Her body screamed for sexual release with this man.

As their tongues tangled in a passionate embrace. Hattie submitted to Will’s demands. Her hands gripped tightly to the sides of his waistcoat.

Finally, his lips softened in their touch. His anger was spent. Her lover from the sea returned slowly to her. His fingers slipped into her hair and gently held her.

When he withdrew his lips, he continued to hold her for a moment, placing a soft kiss on her hair. Then he released her from his embrace.

“Do you have any idea what you have put me through?” he asked.

She cast her eyes downward. The fingers of her right hand began to crack the knuckles on her left hand.

Will took hold of her hand. He knew enough of her to know her nervous tell when it surfaced. She looked up at him. He was still mad at her and she knew he had every right to be so. Yet she knew he would never do anything to hurt her. Protecting others was a fundamental part of Will Saunders.

“Why did you lie to me Hattie? Even after I had discovered your real name and we had become lovers, you still chose to lie to me. Why?” he said.

He was right in demanding the truth from her. Guilt was her constant and unwelcome companion. She had created enough of a web of lies to keep her tangled up forever.

“I didn't tell you the truth of my circumstances because I didn't trust you,” she said.

Will's growl of frustration echoed in the room. Hattie winced. While she had learned to somewhat trust him, he did have a habit of making her feel small when she tried to confide in him.

“Do you realize that getting angry when I do try to tell you the truth is not the way to go about things? I would had told you a lot more about myself if you didn't behave like a wounded beast when I try to open up to you,” she said.

Will shook his head. “How is it that you are able to turn this around to make it somehow my fault? You were the one who lied to the crew. You were the one who made sure I was drugged on board the boat. And you were the one who disappeared over the side of the ship the night before we docked in London, leaving me only a brief farewell note. Do you have any idea how I felt when I thought you were dead?”

Dead.

“I didn't know...”

“No and that is the problem. You don't think through these things enough Hattie before you undertake them. I spent a whole day with the Thames River police searching for your body. All the while I was trying to think of what to say to your uncle. How to explain to him how I had failed to bring you safely home.”

He rubbed his hands over his face. When he took them away, she saw the lines of fatigue etched on his features.

The lightness she had felt only a moment or two ago disappeared under the weight of Will's revelations. After searching in vain for her, he had thought her dead. She had been the cause of his pain.

“Then I discover that your uncle left for the United States of America over four years ago. I tell you it took all my strength not to march up to you and wring your bloody neck when I finally saw you at St. Paul’s.”

“Oh,” was all she could manage in reply.

“Yes oh. You have no idea what your lies have done. Do you?”

Fear began to burn in the pit of her stomach. If Will had seen her at St. Paul’s cathedral what else had he seen? She silently berated herself for having made such an open appearance in public so soon after returning to London.

“One of the things which we will need to discuss is the matter of your brother Edgar. I spoke to him after the service.”

“What did you say?” she stammered.

“Not a lot. I did not know who he was at first. I just noticed that you appeared more than a little interested in him and his wife. To be honest I suspected he might be a secret paramour. Someone who had been the real reason why you jumped ship. After all the lies you had told me, how was I to know that he was not another of your lovers. For all I knew you could have fled England, only to have changed your mind and tried to return to him.”

“But you discovered the true connection?”

“Yes, I used my uncle's name as Bishop of London to make my introductions. It didn’t take long for my connections to uncover the rest of your family history. My cousin the Earl of Shale found out about this house being available for lease. I broke in through a rear door the night before I signed the lease. I even stood outside your bedroom. And yes, once I moved in I went to your room and read all your letters.”

The coincidence of Will taking the lease on the house was as Hattie suspected, no coincidence at all. She stood silent for a little while.

All the time she had thought her careful movements about town had gone undetected she had been under Will's secret gaze. She had never truly escaped him.

“Does Edgar know I am in London?” she finally asked.

Now that Will had enlightened her as to the truth of her situation, there was little point in dancing around the issue of her brother.

“Not at this particular juncture. Or if he does, he did not hear it from me. After watching you at St. Paul’s and then putting two and two together, I guessed that there were serious difficulties between the pair of you. I determined to find out more about the both of you before confronting him. The last thing I would ever want to do would be to help save you from one heartless family member, to then place you under the protection of another who did not have your best interests at heart. Until I can be certain of Edgar and his motives toward you, your secret will remain safe.”

And to hear your side of the story. He did not need to give voice to the notion. Hattie understood the inference. She would have to furnish Will with some very good reasons as to why he should not be putting her into the care of her older brother.

Most other men would have done so already.

He is not like other men.

A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. Mrs. Little appeared carrying a tray with two cups of hot chocolate upon it. She set it down on a small table to one side of the door.

“I brought up some ginger biscuits as well. I thought you might like them,” she said.

She stood back, hands clasped gently together and fell silent. How much Mrs. Little had overhead upon her arrival Hattie was not certain, but it was apparent she was in no hurry to leave Hattie and Will alone again.

“Thank you, Mrs. Little. Miss Wright and I were just catching up on developments since last, we were together. It appears she has quite a few things to tell,” he said.

Hattie and Mrs. Little looked at one another. As Will held all the cards, there was little they could do other than wait for him to decide how the rest of the evening would play out.

He picked up one of the cups of hot chocolate and handed it to Hattie.

“Please go and check that all is in order in Miss Wright's room. I am sure by the time you return, she will have finished her drink. Thank you, Mrs. Little.”

After Mrs. Little took her leave, Will ushered Hattie to a chair by the fireside. Taking a seat in one of Will’s new arm chairs, she felt ill at ease. She had spent many happy afternoons in this room standing beside her father's chair as she read passages of her favorite books to him. Much of her education had taken place in this very room.

Will took the chair opposite. Not only had he taken possession of the house, but now he was inexorably moving the memory of Aldred Wright to the background. Her family home was undergoing a metamorphosis she had not anticipated.

The day before she had left the house with her parents and Peter, she had walked into every room and tried to paint a mental picture of what it looked like. She had not thought to be present in the house when the new tenant began to make changes.

“So, what did you do with my father’s rug?” she asked.

Will sipped his hot chocolate and relaxed back in the chair. It was time to put aside his questions and for them to concentrate on smaller matters. Tomorrow was another day, one in which she suspected he intended to press ahead with his enquiries.

“I had it rolled up in a dust cover and placed in the attic. While I might consider your father's taste in furnishings to be very different from mine, I do not have the right to destroy his property. Rest assured Hattie that when your parents do return from Africa the house will be put to order once more,” he replied.

Trust Will Saunders to be an honorable man unwilling to let anything befall her father's things.

“Somehow, I knew you would say that, though I would be prepared to turn a blind eye if you did happen to lose one or two items. I could give you a list,” she offered.

If Will broke her father's collection of puzzle jugs she was certain she could see her way to forgiving him. She could even be trusted to hide the pieces. Her own mother had developed the gift for accidentally swiping one or two of them from the side board onto the floor. The last two jugs her father purchased had been stored on the top shelf of a high cupboard, safely out of harm's way.

A yawn escaped her lips and Will followed suit. He set his cup down.

“It's late, I suggest we defer our discussion to the morning. Though when we do continue our discussion, there are one or two things I will ask of you Hattie,” he said.

“Yes?”

“I need you to start being honest with me. I am sticking my neck out for you by allowing you to remain under my roof. Your honesty in dealing with me is a fair price to ask. You may not hold a lot of value to your reputation, but I do. I also have my own reputation and that of my family to consider. My Uncle Ewan is the Duke of Strathmore and my Uncle Hugh is the Bishop of London. They are both powerful and well- respected men. I would never wish to lose their good opinion of me.”

He left her with little choice. Her agreement was already a foregone conclusion.

“And the other thing?”

“A promise that when we have managed to sort through things you reconsider my marriage proposal.”

* * *

After making as elegant a retreat as she could, Hattie headed to her old room. Mrs. Little soon joined her.

“Well that turned out so much better than expected. I tell you I was certain he was going to throw us all out at one point,” she said.

Hattie picked up her nightgown from off the bed. It had been neatly folded. She gave a glance at Mrs. Little who was busying herself with arranging Hattie's hairbrush and mirror on the top of the dressing table.

Will’s words continued to rattle around in her head. She was now at his mercy. There were no more ships for her to leap over the side of, he had her right where he wanted her.

“Nice man that Mr. Saunders. So, he is the one who rescued you in Gibraltar. Funny how things worked out and that he was the one who took the house. I wonder what his family is like.”

Mrs. Little was kind in her gentle rebuke. She had been with the family long enough for Hattie to feel terrible about lying to her. For someone who constantly protested about falsehoods and mistruths she had become far too ready to use them when she felt the need.

Mrs. Little came to her side and gently prised the gown from out of Hattie's fingers.

“It’s alright my dear, I understand why you felt you couldn’t tell me the truth. You are back home safely, and that is what matters. I am sure Mr. Saunders was the perfect gentleman while he brought you home.”

Hattie felt her cheeks burn. If Mrs. Little had any inkling as to what she and Will had done during the long afternoons and nights on the boat, the housekeeper would be out of the house and knocking on Edgar’s front door demanding an audience.

She quickly changed into her nightgown and bade Mrs. Little good night. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she pondered this unexpected turn of events. She had expected at some point to encounter Will once more. What she had not expected was for him to be living in the very same house. And for him to still be insistent on his demand for them to marry.

Placing a fingertip on her lips, she remembered the fierce way he had kissed her. Will still lusted for her. His kiss also held the promise of something else. He cared deeply about her.

When he held her in his arms, her hunger for him had stirred within once more. She longed to be naked in his bed as his skillful fingers worked their magic on her heated body. She ached for him to be deep within her once more, claiming her body as he brought her to the pinnacle of sexual pleasure.

But to have him once more as her lover, she would have to agree to his demand for them to marry. Marriage meant Will having a major say in her life, and her work. London society wives did not walk the streets of St. Giles unchaperoned and they most certainly did not spend their days cleaning churches.

As she slid beneath the warmth of the blankets, Hattie allowed her mind to drift once more to Will and the kiss they had shared. When her mind began to touch on the point of examining her feelings for him, she pushed away. Allowing her heart to give itself over to Will was folly. Heartbreak could only follow.