Once he learned that his ward came with a rather large por­tion, he decided that Caroline-and her money- would not escape his grasp. Percy was only a few years older than Caroline, so Oliver announced that they would marry. Neither of the prospective cou­ple was pleased by this plan, and they said so, but Oliver didn't care. He needled Percy until Percy agreed, and then he set about convincing Caroline that she ought to become a Prewitt.

"Convincing" entailed screaming at her, slapping her about, starving her, locking her in her room, and finally ordering Percy to get her with child so that she'd have to marry him.

"I'd rather bring it up a bastard than a Prewitt," Caroline muttered.

"What was that?" Percy asked.

"Nothing."

"You're going to have to leave, you know," he said, abruptly changing the subject.

"Believe me, that fact is quite clear."

"Father told me that if I don't get you with child, he'll take care of it himself."

Caroline very nearly threw up. "I beg your par­don?" she said, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. Even Percy was preferable to Oliver.

"I don't know where you can go, but you need to disappear until your twenty-first birthday, which is... when? ... soon, I think."

"Six weeks," Caroline whispered. "Six weeks ex­actly."

"Can you do it?"

"Hide?"

Percy nodded.

"I'll have to, won't I? I'll need funds, though. I have a bit of pin money, but I don't have access to my inheritance until my birthday."

Percy winced as Caroline peeled the cloth away from his shoulder. "I can give you a little," he said.

"I'll pay you back. With interest."

"Good. You'll have to leave tonight."

Caroline looked around the room. "But the mess ... We have to clean up the blood."

"No, leave it. Better I let you get away because you shot me than because I simply botched the plan."