Lady Davenport did not want to receive any visitors, not when she had so much on her mind. Frank Hopkins was her guest and she wanted him to work as her accomplice, perhaps even as her leverage, but he was still missing. She knew Frank escaped reality by drinking too much, that much had been obvious during the Great Race, when so much had been on the line. Therefore, it was easy enough to believe his frustration with his attempts at breeding his mustang had caused him to look for an easier way out. So, either he had not returned from what she believed had been an all niter at one of the local taverns, or he had returned to the manor late that night only to leave again very early in the morning. What bothered Lady Davenport was the fact that Frank was not presently at the manor. She had assumed that he would at least try to mate his mustang with Al-Hattal again. His absence destroyed her theory, that he truly wanted a foal from this line of equine perfection. If that was not the case, then he would have no real interest in helping her find the Sheik's breeding book as she had planned. Now she had a nagging misgiving. Perhaps more was going on than she knew about. Had she misjudged Frank Hopkins? Where could that infuriating man be?

She created a smile and entered her lounge where she had been told Lady Wellingham was waiting for her. Lady Davenport had wedged her way into Coventry society when she had purchased the manor. She had hosted and toasted the rich families with name and property to get a place among them herself. It was all about position, and she now reflected the down side to that was having to entertain these women when it did not serve her own interests. Of all people, Lady Wellingham's company was most suffocating, as she rarely had anything of interest to share. However, she was one of the cornerstones of Coventry society, so Lady Davenport tried to be gracious.

"Lady Wellingham, how wonderful for you to pay a visit. Did I ever thank you for receiving me and my guest the other day? Mr. Hopkins was most impressed with your estate and your hospitality."

As Lady Davenport sat down, Lady Wellingham replaced her tea cup on it's saucer and said, "Dear Anne, of course you did, several times before you left my home. I know my visit today is unexpected. But like you say, I believe your guest. . .is Hopkins the name? I believe you did just finish saying his name was Mr. Hopkins. Yes, I believe you are right, that he was impressed by our estate, for that is the only reason he could have had to call on Edouard yesterday afternoon."

The smile instantly disappeared from Lady Davenport's face. She gripped the arms of her chair tightly and her muscles tensed. In anger, her jaw set so hard she had to force it open in order to speak. When she did her voice sounded strained,

"Did you say, Mr. Hopkins called on Lord Wellingham, yesterday?"

Lady Wellingham held her gossiping tone, "He certainly did. I was sending off some letters when I saw that unusual horse being led to our stable. It looked nothing like the stallions in Coventry. So I asked our man, who did that creature belong to, and he told me that it belonged to your guest, Mr. Hopkins. I asked Lord Wellingham later if it was true, and, of course, he pretended not to hear me. You know how Edouard is, but I finally got it out of him. And I said to myself, with Edouard being as disagreeable as he is, if that man actually enjoyed talking with him then I must invite him to dinner. Naturally, Anne, I would never overlook you, not if I was going to invite over a guest of yours." Lady Wellingham added in a puzzlement, "Although, Major Davenport is not in residence at the moment, I wouldn't think there would be anything improper in inviting Mr. Hopkins and yourself to dinner. After all, Edouard and I will be there. I do hope you will accept."

Lady Davenport, trying to sort out the meaning of this new development, had hardly been listening to the woman. She caused Lady Wellingham some anxiety with the brief silence that followed her request.

Lady Davenport finally answered, "I will be glad to accept Eleanor. However, I cannot speak for Mr. Hopkins, since he has not returned."

Lady Wellingham's mouth formed a small "o", since she had really made the invitation because of Mr. Hopkins. She wanted to see someone have a conversation of length with her husband, to see how it was accomplished. However, if only Lady Davenport came it would throw her table off completely, and cause Lady Wellingham the worst anxiety. She knew her ulcer would act up if she constantly had to excuse her husband's conduct in Lady Davenport's presence throughout the course of an entire meal. But, the invitation had already been given and Lady Wellingham could only say,

"Yes, well, I will have a place ready for Mr. Hopkins so that when he returns he will hopefully choose to join us. And I truly wish that he will." She thought a moment and added, "Mr. Hopkins must have a way about him. He put Edouard in such a genial mood that he did not wear any of his dour expressions the rest of the evening."

Lady Davenport made a note to study that bit of information later. Still deep in thought, she remained strangely quiet and Eleanor feeling uncomfortable with the tension she could sense but did not understand made ready to leave saying, "I know I wasn't expected, so I won't stay. We look forward to your company at dinner. Please don't forget to mention it to Mr. Hopkins when he returns."

Lady Davenport rose with her guest and replied assuredly, "Don't worry, I will not forget."

When Lady Wellingham exited the room, Lady Davenport sat back down and stared out of the window. Her whole perfect scheme, everything she had pictured in her mind had been threatened by this new information. Frank had not gotten drunk, he was not concerned about an Al-Hattal cross, and therefore he certainly cared nothing about the Al-Khamsa manuscripts. Then why had he come?"

A picture flashed through her thoughts, like a match struck in a dark room. Jazira riding into the desert camp on the back of Frank's hearty little mustang. It had been a touching scene. They had been alone on the Hammad, and they had returned alone. Cold fury, like a sharp winter wind, swept through Lady Davenport's entire being. Aziz, indeed, she thought with a menacing look on her face. Frank had deliberately put her off. Lady Davenport stood up, she had only one purpose, to find Jazira.

She walked slowly, methodically through the manor. She found her alone, in the long, narrow hall, standing atop the ladder cleaning the lofty windows. Lady Davenport looked only at her, as she walked forward. Jazira heard a light footstep and looked down from her work. Lady Davenport stood directly below her, and the look on her face was of bitter hatred. Their eyes locked and Jazira felt the stab of fear. She held her breath but refused to blink or flinch as she looked into the cruel eyes below her. Whatever Lady Davenport was plotting now, she had too much to look forward to when Frank returned, and the hope showed in her eyes. Lady Davenport noticed and her own eyes grew even darker and more dangerous as she resumed walking down the hall into the shadows.