CHAPTER TWELVE

A few weeks after her quarrel and subsequent parting from Curt, Felicity received a visit from his mother. She had written previously expressing her regret and pain at their parting, which she refused to believe was final.

After a brief silence she arrived. Felicity greeted her warmly, more in the light of a friend than as her mother-in-law; nor did she herself feel like the younger Mrs Moreau, exactly. One of the most unsettling things about her visit was that Felicity knew why she had come. As usual she looked very chic, with a pearly glow to her creamy skin and a hint of green eye-shadow. The model two-piece suit she wore, in lilac with a gay little hat and matching tasselled scarf, was enchanting. Her whole aura was soft, sweet and coaxing.

Anna brought in afternoon tea and they were alone; the Colonel was out at a Parish Council meeting. Madame Moreau came straight to the point as she graciously accepted a cup of tea.

Holding it daintily, she said, 'I was surprised when you didn't come to Paris with Curt. I've no wish to pry, but I can't help but wonder whether it had any bearing on this break between you. '

Felicity picked up her own cup and saucer. Her voice seemed to come from a distance, thick and tremulous.

'It began long before that. I'm referring to Curt's association with Nora Staffordly. '

'Ah! So that was it. '

Felicity's heart beat painfully. Her tea tasted like dust and ashes in her mouth. As yet she had not composed herself, and would have preferred more notice of Madame Moreau's impending visit, but as it was she sat before her guest like someone prepared for a recriminatory trial. Her parting from Curt was too recent to be anything but painful, and it was all like a bad dream.

She said bitterly, 'Surely you knew? People gossip, and Nora Staffordly is one of their favourite topics of conversation. '

With hands not quite steady Felicity put down her cup and saucer to the low table nearby, noting that her words had gone home.

'I'm sorry, ' Madame Moreau began, it seemed, with an effort, 'I should have told you before, but somehow I couldn't. Not after you told me about your brother Blain being spoiled by his mother. I can't even begin to explain why I was so smug in allowing you to believe what a sensible mother I'd been, when it wasn't like that at all. '

Madame Moreau put down her cup and used a wisp of lace to touch her lips delicately.

'I'll try to explain, ' she continued with a sad smile. 'I've had two sons. Raoul, my firstborn, was a premature baby and not strong. He was a pretty baby and I lavished all my love and care upon him; he was four and dreadfully spoilt when Curt was born. Curt was strong and self-sufficient from a very early age. I was too wrapped up in Raoul to give him much attention, so he became his father's boy from the beginning.

'Nora Staffordly was Nora Leigh then. She was a neighbour of ours, and the children grew up together. Although Curt was the youngest, he was more mature than Raoul, and also he hadn't much time for girls. He was very fond of his father, but he did encourage Raoul's friendship with Nora. He was the first to congratulate them on their engagement, and his father was pleased, seeing in Nora a steadying influence for Raoul, who could never hold a job down for any length of time after university. After his engagement Raoul took an advertising job, and seemed to be settling down. '

Her voice trembled to a close and she reached for her tea -to drink the rest of it before continuing.

'Raoul was killed on the night before the wedding. He was returning home from a bachelor party when his car ran into a wall. ' A wisp of lace was raised to her nose and eyes. 'He left Nora expecting his baby. Curt offered to marry her for the child's sake, but it seemed that Nora had had more than enough of the Moreaus. She refused and married Clifford Staffordly instead. It happened when my husband was falsely accused of embezzlement; the baby died soon after it was born, and Nora changed overnight to become a good-time girl. Her marriage to Clifford Staffordly was unhappy from the start, and Curt never ceased to feel responsible for her unhappiness. '

Quiveringly aware that the conversation was as painful to Madame Moreau as it was to her, Felicity said gently, 'Thank you for telling me this. It can't have been easy for you. ' She leaned forward and patted her hand in sympathy. 'How terrible for you to lose your husband and son in such tragic circumstances! However, you must see that what you've told me doesn't alter things between Curt and me. In fact it only strengthens my belief that Curt is and has always been in love with Nora Staffordly. '

Madame's shrug was typically French, and it occurred to Felicity that her journey had been made more from a sense of duty than love for Curt. Felicity began to understand why his mother had never intruded much in their marriage; her heart was buried with Raoul, her favourite son. It was a case of Elvira and Blain over again. Poor Curt! But he did not need her sympathy, he was self-sufficient. She was relieved when her visitor refused to prolong her call, on the excuse that she planned to do some shopping in London before returning home.

Maybe it was the haunting sadness in the alluring blue eyes, veiled with dark curling lashes much longer than her own, that made Madame Moreau take the hand of the girl she had become so fond of to make a last appeal.

'I'm sure you're wrong about Curt and Nora. He feels a sense of duty towards her, nothing more, ' she stated firmly.

'I wish I could believe you, ' answered Felicity.

That evening at dinner, she had two things to tell her father; the first was about Madame Moreau's visit.

'So she came to patch things up between you and Curt, ' he said when she had finished. His eyebrows raised hopefully. 'Did she succeed? '

'No, Daddy, ' she answered emphatically.

He frowned. 'I know this isn't my affair, ' he said quietly, 'I don't intend to interfere, but you've married a fine man, my dear. ' His voice trembled with feeling. 'And whatever your attitude, you owe it to him to give him a fair hearing. '

Felicity went white and gazed at him with a set face. 'I can't, Daddy. Something has happened. I will not have Curt returning to me from a sense of duty because I'm expecting another child. '

The Colonel was almost overcome by the news that he was to become a grandfather. His voice trembled with emotion.

'My poor child, ' he said, 'I can't help but be thrilled at the thought of having a companion in my old age. At the same time you must see that Curt, as the baby's father, has a right to know. '

Felicity shook her head. 'I don't want him to know. ' Her voice was clear and decisive, her blue eyes were pleading. 'Promise me you won't tell him. '

The Colonel's voice was tender. 'It's entirely up to you, of course, but he'll be sure to hear about it sooner or later. '

Felicity paused for a moment. 'Since I've decided to have the baby here at Norton Towers, Curt won't know about it until after it's born—not even then, with luck. He could decide to settle down in Paris by then. ' She swallowed on the roughness in her throat. 'His interests lie in that direction. '

The Colonel shook his head, and reluctantly agreed.

In the days and weeks that followed, Felicity ran through a whole gamut of emotions. The empty void Curt had left in her daily life smarted like an open wound; she not only knew the loneliness of the body but also the loneliness of the spirit when her senses were dulled to everything around her. Then gradually the baby she had so bitterly resented now became a lifeline. He would be hers, and loneliness when he arrived would be no more.

Most of her time was spent outdoors and she went for long walks, rising early in the morning in order to tire herself out for a good night's sleep. Since it was now summer again, most of her friends were away on holiday; David Colston had gone with his mother to stay in Malta for six months, so she relied on the beauty of the grounds at Norton Towers to give her a peace and contentment spent mostly in the company of her father. The Colonel was very kind and considerate in her days of waiting, making them less tedious and dreary by walking or sitting with her, playing chess or her favourite records.

News of Curt trickled through from time to time. He was working between London and Paris and once she saw a photograph of him taken at a reception in Paris with Nora Staffordly. It was in one of the monthly magazines, and had been taken at a chateau outside Paris where they were the guests of a duke whose name had become famous through the wines he produced.

Felicity's baby slipped quietly into the world one night, a beautiful boy so like Curt that she wanted to cry. The Colonel was delighted, and Anna glowed with pride.

'He's a real Curt Moreau, ' she cried, holding the baby in her arms. 'He always will be, no matter what you call him. '

Motherhood suited Felicity, giving her the glow of health and a return to her slimness. Her days were now filled with the baby, and her nights too. She insisted on looking after him herself, lying awake long after she had fed him in the night, thinking of Curt and still finding the ache for him unbearable. She had not touched the allowance he sent her monthly, a very generous one, through his solicitors.

The baby was a month old when, one day, Anna came up to the nursery where Felicity was changing the baby to say that she had a visitor.

'He's here, ' she announced dramatically.

Felicity felt her heart take a sudden dive. 'Who's here? ' she said through pale lips, and put a hand to her heart.

'Your husband, ' was the calm reply. 'Shall I tell him you're here? '

'No, no, ' Felicity scooped up the baby from her lap and handed him to her, 'I'll go down. Stay here with the baby. '

At the door, her trembling fingers grasping the knob, she said, 'Where's Daddy? '

'I've no idea. ' Anna smiled. 'You're not afraid of your own husband, are you? '

Felicity left the room, angry with Anna for being deliberately unhelpful and her father, for not being about when he was wanted. It was evident to her overwrought state that she could expect no help from that quarter; she had to face Curt alone. He had come, of course, because he had heard about the baby. No doubt he had seen the announcement in The Times.

With her legs feeling like useless props, she went downstairs to the lounge and stood outside the door, wishing fervently for her father to appear. But there was no sound. She needed every ounce of courage to open the door. He was standing gazing through the window with his back to her, and her eyes rested on the outline of his well-shaped head, poised so proudly on wide shoulders. Hungrily, Felicity took in every detail of him, loving the perfect grooming that had always been a part of his charm.

Slowly he turned around to face her, and her heart beat in thick heavy strokes.

'Hello, Felicity, ' he said, pushing his hands into his pockets and glowering at her. 'I don't know why you're looking at me so big-eyed and frightened—hate me if you wish, but never be afraid of me. I would never hurt a hair of your beautiful head. Won't you sit down? '

He gestured to a chair with a lean brown hand, and she shook her head.

'Why have you come? ' she asked, taking care to leave plenty of space between them. He took his time in answering, allowing his eyes to move slowly, deliberately over the lovely contours of her face and neck, the glittering golden hair and the exquisite lines of her slender figure.

He raised an exasperating brow. 'Surely you know? I saw it in the paper. That's why I'm here. '

Felicity groped for the nearest chair blindly, and every scrap of colour left her face. She stood grasping the back of it and staring at him dumbly.

'My poor sweet, ' Curt strode towards her, 'does he mean so much to you? '

She swallowed, and her voice seemed to come from a long way off.

'He's my life. He's mine and I'll never give him up. '

He was standing above her. His face had changed colour too; the bronze of his tan went sallow and a muscle moved in his cheek. The one dominant thought going through her mind at that moment was that he had not altered at all. And neither had she. Her desire for him ran through her like a sword to her heart, remembering moments of flame, of love and tenderness. He was harder, leaner, his eyes dark and glinting, probing the misery of longing in her own. He was willing her to look at him so that nothing else mattered, except the old relentless magnetism that drew her to him like steel to steel. Was it love or hate, this passion that ran through' her tearing her apart?

For a moment the baby was forgotten as Curt's hands gripped her shoulders with bone-cracking intensity. His touch vibrated along her nerves until she was not herself any more. In fact she could swear that for a fleeting second the need in his eyes for her was as agonizing as hers was for him. She had imagined it, of course.

He was looking at her now with murder in his eyes, and only pride prevented her from crying out at the grip of his powerful hands as he shook her.

'Do you know what you've said? ' he demanded. 'You're telling your husband that you can't live without another man. '

Felicity stared up at him in bewilderment. 'What other man? I don't understand. What are you talking about? '

His anger was still there, but he talked like a man being tolerant against his will. He had stopped shaking her and his grip had slackened.

'David Colston. Who else? For God's sake, tell me the truth. Is there someone else, someone I don't know about? ' His eyes blazed. 'How many men have you had? '

The sound of her hand coming into contact with his cheek was like the crack of a whip in the stillness of the room. Suddenly he let go of her and swung round to walk to the window.

'I'm sorry, ' he said in a -low voice. 'That was unforgiveable, contemptible too, because I know you aren't like that. I'm afraid I'm not myself today. When I saw the announcement of Colston's engagement in the newspaper I had to come, in case you were upset about it. '

'David engaged? I can't believe it! '

Felicity's voice sounded hoarse with surprise. Then suddenly he heard her laugh, a laugh of such pure pleasure that it swung him round to look at her incredulously.

'Fancy missing that, ' she gurgled. 'Is it anyone I know? Do tell me her name. You did say that he hadn't the wit to take a wife. '

'You mean you didn't know? ' he demanded.

'Of course I didn't! Is it someone he's met in Malta? I believe he's there on holiday with his mother. She won't be a bit happy about it, she adores her beloved son. '

Suddenly Felicity was reminded of her own son asleep upstairs, and was aware that Curt knew nothing about him. The smile faded from her face.

He said wearily, 'It's all right, there was no need to put on an act. You must be feeling like hell. '

She was, but not in the way he meant. 'I didn't think it mattered to you how I felt. I'm sure you haven't thought of me at all in the last seven months—why should it suddenly matter to you now? '

'For two reasons, ' he told her grimly, 'the first is that you are my wife. ' He paused and looked right into her eyes. 'I don't think you'll be interested in the second. '

Felicity said quietly, 'Why not tell me, and then you'll know. '

She was trembling now, alone as she was in the room with him. She was afraid, desperately afraid of him, afraid of something she did not understand except that the present moment was one of the most crucial in her life. She could not look at him for the life of her—but she felt his eyes as he came across the room to where she stood.

The room held a listening quality, as if waiting for the sound of the deep voice that never failed to vibrate inside her.

'I came because I love you, ' he told her simply and quietly. 'I couldn't bear to think of what you might be going through because of Colston. You told me that you wished you'd married him. instead of me—what further proof could I have that you didn't love me any more? '

Felicity drowned in the exquisite silence enfolding them. She spoke through lips softly parted, her voice so low that he had to bend his head to hear it.

'You did say that you loved me. Please say it again. Please, ' she entreated, raising her head to see the look in his eyes that already answered her in no uncertain terms.

'I love you with every drop of blood that's in me, ' he said very gently, as his arms closed around her. 'I've never wanted any other woman in my life as I've wanted you. I never shall. '

He bent his head, and his breath was warm on her lips. The look in his eyes made her tremble and she tried to speak, but no sound came. Gradually her arms crept up to frame his face with her hands as she gave him her lips. For a long time Felicity drowned in the bliss of his arms as time stood still. She was carried along on a wave of passion; his kisses burned her lips, his arms squeezed the breath from her body, and she had to cling on to the powerful curve of his shoulder blades. But her passion was equal to his as his kisses whipped up the answering flames within her. It was not until she eventually held him off, palpitating and exhausted with her hands against his chest, that sanity returned.

The light of masculine triumph in his eyes brought her back to banalities.

'But how can you say you love me? ' she cried. 'You've left me alone for seven months without a word. '

'After I called to see you when you'd taken care to be out, ' he answered grimly. 'And don't forget that you implied that you loved Colston. '

'What if I'd put in for a divorce? Would you have given me one? '

'No, by heaven, I wouldn't. I'd have come quick enough at the first sign of a petition. You're my wife, and you're going to stay that way. ' His hands bit into her shoulders again. 'I have to go away again to finish something important; then I shall be back, and to stay. Do you understand? '

Felicity stared up at him unbelievingly. 'You... you're going now? You've only just come! After seven months you coolly walk in here and take your leave again like... like someone selling something, who'll be round again in seven months' time. How dare you? ' Reckless, searing anger gave her strength. All the scorn she was capable of rose in her voice.

'All right, ' she cried passionately, 'go back to Nora Staffordly, but I don't want you. Don't ever come back! ' She hated him from the arrogant poise of his head to the tips of his well-shod feet. Tears blinded her eyes as he silenced her in the only way.

His mouth smothered the protests on her lips and gradually she went quiet against him. Again Felicity felt the quick leap of her pulses: It was no use fighting him. They were two incomplete halves until they came together. Were he to go away now—were she to refuse to see him again—it would make no difference. They would belong to each other until the end of their lives, together or apart.

'My foolish darling, ' he whispered as his lips caressed her face, 'I'm not going back to Nora Staffordly I've been working as technical adviser to the French courts. Another week or so will suffice for me to finish what I set out to do, and then I shall be home for good. ' He consulted his watch. 'I have to go. ' Suddenly he was smiling down at her, tenderly, boyishly. 'I had it all worked out; I had to come back to London for an important conference and I stole time off to come here and carry you back with me, whether you wanted to go or not. I wish I had known how you really felt about David Colston before—I wouldn't have taken on this work if I had, and given you, as I thought, time to make up your mind about where you and I stood. Will you come back with me? '

His voice held a caress that drew her very soul from her body, reminding her of the small son upstairs who would grow up just as charming and vital as his father. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him about his son, but there was no time. It would only divert Curt from the work he had in hand. Besides, she wanted to see the look dawn slowly in his eyes when she placed his son in his arms, the look of a proud father. Later, she wanted that look replaced by that of a lover, and to know the bliss of a reunion in his arms.

So she said, 'I want to wait here for you. ' The blue eyes raised to his were filled with her love for him. 'I love you so much that I want all of you, not just the part that your work has spared to me. Do you mind so much if I do that? '

Infinite tenderness was in his smile, and something humble that was not at all like Curt Moreau. Gently he took her hands in his warm clasp and kissed them, knowing that she enriched his life with her melting warmth and tenderness. Their separation had taught him much, learned though he was in material things. He had known that when he really fell in love he would fall harder than most; what he had not known was that he was one of those chosen few who would have a woman fashioned for him alone, the one woman who could make his blood leap and his heart quicken its rhythm.

'You want me to come here to' you at Norton Towers? ' he said.

Felicity nodded. 'Yes. You'll know why when you come. '

'Shall I, my sweet? ' He gave a painful smile. 'The next week or so are going to be the longest I've ever lived through. '

Ten days later Curt's plane touched down at the airport, and he drove to Norton Towers well above the speed limit. The car lanes were filled with impatient drivers like himself, and a tender smile curved his well-cut lips. The gates of the drive were open and he sped along it, braked and was out of the car in seconds. The house slumbered in the sunshine and there seemed to be no. one about, but the front door was open. Anna met him in the hall to answer the unspoken query in his eyes.

'The second door to the right at the head of the stairs, ' she told him, with a twinkle in her eyes.

He took the stairs two at a time, knocked and opened the door. The room he entered was filled with sunlight, spilling through snow white, nylon frilled curtains. But it was not the fact that it was a nursery that caused Curt to go pale; it was the sight of Felicity, bending over a cot to lift out a small bundle in her arms. A constriction arose in his throat as, silent and intent, his brain registered picture he would cherish all his life.

She was wearing a button-through blue linen dress and white sandals, and his eyes were on the beautiful line of her neck, on the delicate profile of her small head with the shining golden hair and the exquisite, minute details of her appearance that never failed to please his fastidious eye. She was looking down at the small bundle in her arms as if even now she could not believe it was there. He held his breath as she looked up, and suddenly laughing blue eyes met his over the bundle in her arms.

'Curt, ' she cried, 'come and say hello to your son. Isn't he beautiful? '

Words failed Curt as he reached her side and tentatively took the baby in his arms. He looked down on a tuft of hair and a tiny face so like his own that he had to grin.

'He's wonderful, ' he said. 'Why didn't you tell me? '

'I have, ' she answered, 'in the nicest possible way. You won't be so lucky over the next—you'll have to go through all the agonies of being an expectant father. '

She smiled up at him, and the look in his eyes made her lower her own.

Darkly, he said, 'Wait until I put our son and heir down, my girl. I'll show you that I'm a force to be reckoned with. ' And he did. His embrace was enchanting, his face still cool from outdoors, his lips warm and urgent. He kissed her as if he would never let her go, and her hands moved blindly over his head, caressing it. She was where she belonged; the magic of her old life had gone. There was no magic for her now except in her husband's arms.

He kissed her eyelids, the tip of her nose and the warm hollow of her throat.

Against her hair, he murmured, 'I ought to beat you for, holding out on me, but I'll forgive you since you've given me such a wonderful present. I have one for you too, not counting myself, of course. '

He laughed down at her, and Felicity looked up at him severely.

'You're still arrogant, and far too sure of yourself. I must be mad to saddle myself another one exactly like you. '

He gave her a mocking, tender appraisal. 'You're deliciously mad, my sweet. And very, very beautiful. Motherhood suits you. You don't know what a relief it is to me to know that when I put you in the family way again. '

He laughed silently into her hair at her shocked look, and she felt the chuckle of his happiness vibrating against her. Then he sobered.

'Do you know what I want more than anything else in the world? ' he whispered. want to be with you for all time, waking and sleeping, making love to you, sharing your children, your laughter and your life. But first I want to know why you turned against me and let me believe that you wished you'd married David Colston. I know I neglected you during the time I was in Paris, but believe me, it was to my own cost. It was during that parting that I realized how much you meant to me. When my father died I became a dedicated man to his cause; I studied for the bar and nothing else mattered to me except my career after I'd cleared his name.

'Then I met you, and everything was changed overnight. You brought love and tenderness into my life and made me a complete being when before I was just an automaton. I'll never forget how shattered I was when you told me about Colston. ' He gave a short, harsh laugh. 'I could have strangled him with my bare hands! I felt the same when I read of his engagement to someone else—I wanted to hurt him as I thought he had hurt you. '

And because he was looking down at her so tenderly,

Felicity told him about Nora Staffordly.

'I've been awfully jealous, darling, ' she confessed. 'I honestly thought there was something between you that had begun long before I met you. '

'You still do, don't you? ' he demanded, looking down into her eyes searchingly.

She hesitated, but only for a second. 'No. No, I don't, ' she answered, and decided she did not care. She thought, some day he will tell me. I shall never ask him. If there's something he doesn't want me to know, so be it. I love him and I have him with me, nothing else matters.

He evidently found her reply convincing, for he smiled and placed an arm around her shoulders.

'Shall we go in search of my suitcase? I put the packet in there. '

They strolled quietly from the nursery and along the corridor to her bedroom, where they found his suitcase. Opening it, he took out a neat, flat parcel which he handed to her.

'For you, my sweet, ' he said.

Felicity opened it to see a white, leather-bound book, gold-edged and with the words, 'Our Baby' written in gold on the cover. Her glance at Curt told her he was as surprised as she was to see it. He came and looked over her shoulder as she flicked open the pages gaily designed for details of the baby's birth and christening; further on there were spaces for photographs of the baby's progress.

In between the pages was a letter addressed to Felicity.

It began, 'Thank you for lending me your husband in my greatest hour of need. I want you to have this book for your baby when you have one. It was originally intended for mine, but I lost the baby and the father too. When you receive this I shall be with the man I love, as you will be. I would like you to know that Curt was desperately unhappy all the time he was away from you; please forgive me for any distress I have caused you and your family. I was very fond of Blain, but Raoul was the only man I ever loved. Be happy. Nora Staffordly. '

Felicity, reading the last few lines through a blur of tears, felt Curt take the book and letter from her gently. Then he gathered her to him and said quietly, 'Nora died two days ago in Switzerland. The book came this morning to my club in Paris. '

'Oh, Curt! ' she cried, and crumpled against him.

Between them they bathed the baby and put him to bed, all rosy and replete with his feed, then they had dinner with the Colonel. He was delighted to know that they were going to stay with him for a while, and seemed to shed years. As for Curt, his amazing vitality was more dominant than ever, and Felicity was as beautiful as only a happy woman could be. . But she seemed to Curt, watching her with a lover's anxious eye, to be rather wistful when she thought no one was noticing.

It was much later, when they were about to retire, that Curt suggested to her that they should take a short stroll in the grounds before bed. A faint breeze stirred the trees, wafting the perfume of the grounds towards them. The scent of the roses was all around them as they reached a seat in a small arbour, and Curt pushed her down into it gently before lowering himself beside her.

'I don't want you to accept Nora's gift, ' he told her, 'I should hate to think it makes you unhappy. '

'Oh, but, Curt, it doesn't! I love it so much that I want to cry, ' Felicity hastened to assure him.

'Exactly, ' he cut in. 'Let's talk about it, shall we? '

Drawing her close against him, he began.

'I never told you about my brother Raoul. I would have got around to it some day, I suppose, but it's important that I tell you now. He was always very close to my mother, which was understandable seeing that he was four years old when I was born, but consequently he was spoiled from birth. He was quite likeable, and I was fond of him, and when he died somehow Nora, being his fiancé e, became my responsibility. So I proposed to her for the sake of the child. She refused me and married Staffordly. She could have been moderately happy with/him had he been an understanding man, but he wasn't; he couldn't stand the thought of her still being in love with Raoul, although she had married him. After the baby died there were rows, and she finally sought the company of other men.

'I'm sure she saw much in your brother Blain that reminded her of Raoul. All her young men friends were the same type—it seemed that she was searching for his image in someone else. Just before her husband was found dead her doctor had told her that she was suffering from cancer. She kept it to herself and told no one. In a panic at the thought of the pain she would suffer towards the end, she dissolved tablets that were deadly when taken with alcohol, but she put the glass down to answer the telephone. When she came back to the room her husband had picked the drink up and swallowed it. He had been drinking heavily at his club, and he was pretty well under the influence of drink when he arrived home. '

'How terrible! What a tragedy, ' Felicity said on a shudder, and he drew her closer.

He agreed. 'It is, especially as they discovered during the post-mortem on Clifford Staffordly that he hadn't long to live in any case. His liver was in a bad state through his excessive drinking. I only saw Nora once after the trial, and that was at the chateau of a mutual friend. She kept her illness from me and spent the last few months of her life in a clinic in Switzerland; the solicitor acting on her behalf told me this in a letter he sent with the present for you. '

'I shall treasure that present all my life, and when we put the photographs of our baby in it I shall imagine her looking over our shoulders and smiling happily, ' Felicity said. While she felt sorry for the Staffordlys and for Nora in particular, she also knew a feeling of relief. Everything made sense again, and the world was safe and filled with promise. Curt had never been Nora's.

They sat for a long time talking of the future.

'About Cherry Trees, ' Curt said at last. 'Do we move back there? I left word for Henri to follow me here. ' He tilted her head back gently with hands that were strong and tender and looked down into her eyes. 'It's for you to decide, my sweet. It will be a wrench for the Colonel to part with you now that he's had you here again. '

She shone up at him. 'Darling Curt, ' she cried. 'I feel that way too. Would you mind awfully if we stayed on here? After all, the place will be ours some day, and he's so lonely. '

Her blue eyes were very appealing.

Curt smiled and agreed, bringing down his cheek to rest against her hair. Held warm and close in his arms, Felicity tried to take it all in. Moisture gathered on her eyelashes; sitting there in the garden of her lovely old home she had everything she had ever wanted from life, a husband whom she adored and a delicious little son. Her father would never be lonely again.

Gratitude stole sweetly over her as she moved her head to look up at Curt, loving every line of his lean face, his masculine nose and deep, disturbing eyes. The happiness and need in them was for her. She had put it there. She lifted a hand to touch the curve of his cheek, and gave a start at the sound of a rustle in a nearby tree.

Her breath caught and she exclaimed, 'What was that? '

He whispered in her ear, 'Could be a little bird thinking it's time we were in bed. '

He bent his head and his lips met hers in a long, hard kiss.

'Come on, let's go, ' he said.

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