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Fortunately, this inn was not positioned directly behind the wharfs like many of the shops on this street, but was tucked away at the end—saved from most of the clamour of freight being loaded on and off the docked vessels. In addition, though the fish market nearby was already doing a brisk business, the wind was blowing in another direction this morning, leaving only the salty sea air to fill one’s senses. Thus situated, they had an exquisite panorama to take pleasure in. Tranquil, Elizabeth thought as she took a deep breath, but deceiving. She had read enough books describing life aboard ships to be familiar with the dangers. From this viewpoint, she concluded, one might imagine the sea to be peaceful and inviting, but upon closer examination might find it savage and unforgiving. All of a sudden, more of Cecile’s empty discourse interrupted her quiet contemplations.

“I would dearly love to be sailing somewhere far away,” Evan’s sister sighed wistfully. “Someplace to start anew, where no one knows my name or my situation. How liberating that would be!” For once, Mrs. Preston was being entirely truthful—she really did desire to start anew.

Elizabeth sighed wistfully as well. The only place she dearly longed to go was back to Pemberley ... to William.

Cecile continued to ramble, “I daresay you should be able to start anew in the Americas. I hear anyone with enough fortitude can succeed there.” She added arrogantly, “And anyone who would do what you have done has to have gall. I will give you that!”

A knock on the door saved Elizabeth from replying to her crass comment. Unfortunately, this intrusion also set into motion a chain of events that would parallel her analysis of the sea only moments before.

At the interruption, Cecile stood. “I shall see what they want.”

She swept her skirts aside to enter the narrow door leading to the bedroom and closed it silently, leaving Elizabeth to gaze at the water unaware of what would be said behind her back. The look of intrigue that passed between Cecile and Mr. Wickham was likewise unnoticed by the object of their conspiracy. In hushed tones, they discussed the woman on the balcony.

“Does she suspect anything?” Wickham enquired, straining to get a look at the dark-haired woman who, from what he could see, was very handsome. His heart beat faster. Too bad this woman was Stefano’s—he would have enjoyed getting to know her better.

“I do not think so.” Cecile shrugged. “She assumes that we are waiting here until the ship to the Americas arrives.”

“Excellent. Go explain to her that your old friend George Walters has learned that you are in Liverpool and requests the honour of your presence at his summer home just outside town. Be sure and let her know that declining my invitation is not practical, as you have limited funds. You will know how to handle it I am sure. I shall wait like a proper gentleman for you to introduce us, once you have her assent.”

“Walters?”

“She may have heard the name Wickham mentioned at some point while she stayed at Pemberley. I do not want to raise doubts.”

Cecile nodded, turning to return to the balcony but stopped short. “What will happen to her when the count has her under his power?”

“Do not bother yourself with those details, my dear. I am sure you really do not want to know.”

Cecile sighed, starting again to make her way towards Elizabeth. At one time, this type of deception would have been foreign to her nature—she would have found it revolting. But that was when I still had a conscience. Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door and stepped out to face her captive with forced cheeriness.

“You will never guess what has happened! What good fortune is ours!”

Turning to the sound of Cecile’s voice, Elizabeth’s brows knit as she caught sight of a man staring at her from just inside the room. He looked familiar, but she could not place where she had seen him. Nevertheless, something deep inside her cried out to be wary. Her heart began to beat faster under his continued analysis, while Cecile rattled on about the coincidence of Mr. Walters’ learning they were in Liverpool.

… Old friend ... villa nearby ... guests of his ... save our funds.

All of a sudden, Elizabeth’s attention was captured by a proclamation. “We shall be packed and on our way very shortly.”

Elizabeth turned to stare at Cecile, totally ignorant of most of what she had been saying. “On our way? Where?”

“Have you not been listening? To Mr. Walters’ villa, of course! We shall save the cost of rooms here.”

Instantly, all manner of alerts began to assail her. The sound of footsteps close behind caused her to look back over her shoulder. She discovered that the stranger now stood only a few feet away, smiling self-importantly. Cecile waved him forward.

Seeing dread spread over Elizabeth’s face, Cecile hurriedly exclaimed, “Elizabeth, may I introduce my good friend, Mr. George Walters. He owns the villa where we will stay while we await the arrival of your ship. Mr. Walters, this is Miss Elizabeth Lawrence, my friend.”

Wickham smiled. Stepping forward, he reached for Elizabeth’s hand and brought it to his lips, noticing the softness and the faint scent of rosewater. “It is a pleasure to meet any friend of Cecile’s, especially one so lovely.”

As their eyes met, a long-suppressed fragment of a memory came flooding back, and Elizabeth flinched without knowing the reason. She still could not recollect everything of the time she was ill, but instinctively she knew that she did not trust him. The man before her looked offended as she abruptly extracted her hand from his grasp.

“Thank you, Mr. Walters,” she replied icily, as she studied him with a quizzical brow. “It is kind of you to extend an invitation for Mrs. Preston and me to stay at your estate. Nevertheless, I believe it would be best if I stay here until my ship departs. I would not want to chance missing it. I have no objections to Mrs. Preston’s leaving me here alone.”

“Nonsense!” Wickham declared, looking very irritated, his smile leaving as quickly as his temper flared. “My home is much nicer than this—” he motioned wildly with his hands, “this stark establishment. And as for staying informed, my servants will assure that you are notified well before the ship is to set sail. Meanwhile, you and Cecile can serve as chaperones for each other, as there are no other guests at my home at present. Surely, you would not deny Cecile the chance to visit, and she cannot very well come without you.”

Elizabeth shifted from one foot to another as Cecile and this man coldly awaited her reply. Something was not quite right, but it was impossible for her to refuse the invitation as presented. “Of course not.”

Wickham’s pleasant mood returned at once, and he smiled brilliantly. “Excellent!” He turned to Cecile. “I shall have my men begin taking your luggage to the carriage so that we can be away from here as soon as possible. I have left instructions for my cook to expect company, and she always does a wonderful job when I entertain. I am sure the quality of the food will greatly exceed that which you have found here and on the road.”

Cecile let go of the breath she had been holding and took Elizabeth’s arm, guiding her towards her bedroom. “I am sure you will enjoy Mr. Walters’ estate much more than this bare room. Come. Let me help you pack.”