Justin glanced at his companion and saw how her face lit up when Curzon spoke to her.

"I was in no danger, Mr. Curzon," she said, her voice proper but her eyes brimming with excitement. "I'm an avid gardener, you see, and Lord Justin very kindly consented to show me some of the lesser-known parts of the park."

In a careless tone that managed to imply that Justin was scarcely better than an under gardener, Curzon said, "You could not have chosen a better guide, for I'm sure that no one knows more about such matters than Lord Justin." He offered Sunny his arm. "Now I shall take you to Lady Westron."

Sunny turned to Justin and said with sweet sincerity, "Thank you for the tour, my lord. I enjoyed it very much."

Yet as soon as she took Curzon's arm, Justin saw that she forgot his existence. He watched them walk away together-two tall, blond, laughing people. They were like members of some superior race, set apart from the normal run of mankind.

For the first time in his life, Justin found himself resenting Gavin for having been born first. The Sunny Vangelders of the world would always go to men like Gavin or Curzon.

His aching regret was followed by deep, corroding anger. Damning himself for a fool, he turned and headed toward the house. Gavin's fete could progress to its conclusion without him.

Chapter Two

Swindon Palace

Summer 1885

Justin stared out the study window at the dreary landscape, thinking that rain was appropriate for the day he had buried his only brother. After a gray, painful interval, a discreet cough reminded him that he was not alone. He turned to the family solicitor, who had formally read the will earlier in the afternoon. "Why did you ask speak with me, Mr. Burrell?"

"Though I'm sorry to intrude at such a time, your grace," the solicitor said, "there are several pressing matters that must be addressed without delay."