Hi, everyone! Thank you for being patient with me and this story. I hope you enjoy the latest chapter. If you get a chance, let me know what you think! And, as always, a HUGE thank you to my wonderful Beta, ColeandPhoebeForever. Thank you so much, Kim!

HELENA

At first she thought she was dreaming. That she had fallen asleep earlier in the afternoon and had imagined the ballroom, the waltz, the chase, and her mad search of every room in the eastern wing of the house. That she had dreamt that she smelled leather and wood smoke and that hint of lavender, and that she was hallucinating when his fingers caressed her cheek in the darkness.

Then she was in his arms, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body, and feel the silk of his hair tangling in her fingers. He was the only man in the world, the only thing that mattered. He was hard muscle and soft skin beneath her fingertips, desire and love and passion and that deep, rumbling voice that made her soul cry out with joy. He held her tightly to him, pressing her against the firm muscles in his chest. Her skin tingled and her limbs were languid with pleasure. His hands seemed to burn through the fabric of her dress as he touched her. She felt alive, she felt incandescent.

She lifted herself up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, and couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped her as his tongue slid over hers like soft, hot velvet. He tasted like heat and passion. She nipped his bottom lip, very gently, and he growled deep in his throat, and his arms tightened even further around her. "You have driven me mad," he murmured into her lips, sliding his hands down her back, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

"It's no less than you deserve," she replied as she trailed delicate kisses across his jaw and neck. She paused a moment, and then grazed her teeth over the soft, sensitive skin beneath his ear.

"Vixen!" he gasped. His entire body shuddered, and he grabbed her shoulders as if to pull her away. She felt an instant flash of panic at the thought of being separated from him, and tightened her arms around his neck and caught his earlobe between her teeth, nibbling gently. His arms fell limply away and he sank to his knees with a deep, tormented moan. On his knees he was nearly as tall as she was while she stood. "Please, Helena," he begged, "stop teasing me and let me speak."

"I'd rather not," she replied. She trailed her tongue over his bottom lip, and his hands grasped her hips and pulled her closer, his fingers digging almost painfully into her flesh. She felt him tense, preparing to push her away, and she went instantly still. "Wait!" she said frantically. "I'll stop!"

Was that a smile on his face? She couldn't see it, but she could feel it. She muttered a curse at him, and he chuckled.

"I have not had a moment's peace since I met you," he said, releasing his grip on her waist and smoothing his hands over her hips. She could hear the happiness in his voice. "You take pleasure in tormenting me, you demand nothing less than my best, and you haunt me at all times."

"Now, to be fair, if you're going to bring up haunting..." she began, and he laughed. The sound of his laughter made her smile.

"I couldn't help myself," he said, shrugging his massive shoulders. "I cannot stay away from you."

Lena opened her mouth to speak again, but he slid his large hands down to cup her backside, and she gasped as heat and pleasure curled through her body, silencing her in an instant. God, how she burned for him. When he slid his hands back up to her waist, she made a soft whimpering noise in protest, and pressed her body closer to his, reveling in the heat and strength that surrounded her.

"I am not finished," he growled through clenched teeth, unable to hide the desire in his voice. "I have tried so hard to stay away from you. I cannot. I will no longer try." At this, Lena sucked in a breath and let it out as a shaky laugh, full of tentative joy. What if he changed his mind? What if he got tired of her and left? Fear nipped at the heels of her happiness, weighing her down. "I will stay with you, in whatever capacity I can. But first, you have to know what I am."

Lena waited. But he said nothing. He seemed paralyzed, as if he couldn't bring himself to form the words he wanted to say.

So she bent her head and kissed him softly, felt her lips tingle against his.

"I love you," she said. "That is all that matters."

"It's not that simple," he whispered, his voice now heavy with misery. "You may change your mind once you know, and I..." he took a deep breath, and his grip tightened on her hips. "I don't know if I could survive without you." He sighed. "I am a coward, Helena."

"I do not think you are," she replied with a thoughtful frown. She hesitated a moment, as a thought hit her, and instinctively she tightened her grip on him. "Would... Would it be easier if you waited until tonight to tell me?"

That way, at least, he would be in familiar territory, and he wouldn't have to fear her eyes. Her idea wasn't completely altruistic, however; she knew that tonight when he came to her, she would already be in bed, and it would be that much easier to get him to join her.

He paused, and then chuckled softly, and the sound reverberated in her chest. "How well you know me," he murmured, brushing his lips over her shoulder in a feathery kiss. She shivered with pleasure. "Tonight, then," he confirmed, and he stood in a rush of motion.

"No!" she yelped. Panic flooded her again. She latched her arms around his neck and pressed her face against his chest, willing the sun to fall out of the sky that instant and bring night to them. She could hear his heartbeat, strong and loud, and beneath that, the slow rhythm of his breathing. She closed her eyes and memorized the sound of it.

He chuckled humorlessly. "I don't like it any more than you do," he said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "but your cousin is looking for you, and she has enlisted Zeus in the search. It won't be long before we are discovered."

The idea of being discovered didn't bother her at all, but she did not voice that opinion aloud. He wouldn't have appreciated the thought. Slowly, she disentangled herself from him, and felt the loss of his touch like a bucket of ice water tossed over her head. She shivered, and from across the room, she heard him sigh.

"Go," he pleaded.

Still she hesitated. "What if you change your mind?"

"I won't change my mind, ma cherie," he said. There was a smile in his voice.

"Are you sure?"

"I give you my word," he replied. "Nothing will keep me away from you tonight."

ABIGAIL

Abigail cursed softly as she scanned yet another empty room. Beside her, Zeus whined, and tilted his big head to gaze up at her with soft brown eyes. His eyelids drooped slightly, giving him the appearance of constant hopefulness.

"It's not your fault, little bear," she soothed him in French, her favorite language for when she was worried or distressed. Zeus's tail whumped softly on the carpet. He turned and padded out of the room and down the hallway.

She followed, mostly because she had no idea where to look for Lena. She had simply disappeared from the ballroom, in the middle of Abby's waltz with Montford. The thought brought a flush of heat to her cheeks. She had never before met a man outside of her family whose intelligence could rival that of her father. He was clever, highly amusing, and kind. And when they had waltzed together, he had looked at her with such intensity it had made her shiver.

Zeus barked at a door at the end of the hallway, then glanced over at her and barked again.

"Very well, then, but if it's a rat you're after, I'm going to scream right in your ear." She opened the door and Zeus rushed passed her, bumping her to the side in his haste.

"Hello, darling," Lena said with a soft laugh. Abby sighed in relief and walked into the room. Zeus had his paws up on Lena's lap as she sat on the bench by the window on the far wall. Abby crossed her arms and frowned at her cousin.

"Are you feeling well, Lena?" she asked in a carefully neutral voice. Her cousin smiled, and Abby did not miss the slight flush in her cheeks and the way her eyes sparkled.

"Perfectly well," Lena replied simply. "I'm sorry that I ran out like that."

At the look of longing that flashed through Lena's eyes, Abby felt her stomach flip. She sank down onto the bench beside Lena and took her hands.

"Lena..." she hesitated. What if her suspicions were true? Her heart constricted. "Is it Montford?"

Lena blinked at her. "Is what Montford?"

"Is that why you ran from the ballroom?"

Lena went slightly pale, and her lips curled into a small frown. Abby felt her palms starting to grow damp within her gloves. She squeezed Lena's hands and leaned forward.

"Abby, I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," she said.

Abby's heart was fluttering in her chest. She took a deep breath, and steeled herself for whatever unpleasantness may follow.

"Were you upset because Montford and I were dancing?" she demanded.

Lena's frown deepened. "Of course not; you danced beautifully with Montford."

"That's not what I meant," Abby said with a groan. "Lena, is Montford the one you're in love with?" Lena's face went completely blank for a moment, and Abby felt like her heart had climbed up into her throat. She squeezed Lena's hands again. "It's perfectly fine if you are. The two of you would make such a lovely match."

"No!" Lena's vehemence startled her. "God in Heaven, no! I am not in love with Montford!"

The relief that swept through Abby was so strong it made her dizzy. She was glad she wasn't standing, or she might have actually swooned. She sent a silent, fervent thanks heavenward and smiled.

Lena started laughing. From across the room, Zeus barked happily in response.

"What?" Abby demanded, smiling despite herself. Until this summer, Lena hadn't laughed for many years, and the joy was contagious. She reached out and playfully shoved Lena's shoulder. "Stop laughing at me, I was worried!"

"Sorry, sorry," Lena said through giggles. "I can't help it, the look on your face was just..." and she dissolved into laughter again.

Abby sighed. "Well if you're not in love with Montford, then I am."

Lena's arms were around her in an instant, hugging her tight. "I'm happy for you," she said with a grin. "He is a good man."

Zeus barked again. Both women turned their heads to see him standing in front of the door to what Abby supposed was a dressing room.

"What do you want, little bear?" She demanded playfully, standing up to walk over to Zeus. "There's nothing in there."

"Quite right," Lena said quickly, moving to Abby's side. She linked her arm through Abby's and started to pull her towards the hallway. "I've had enough of this dusty room, I need some fresh air. Zeus, viens."

With a whine, Zeus followed them out of the room, padding silently at Lena's side.

"Why were you hiding in a guest room, Lena?" Abby wondered, suddenly suspicious.

"I was just thinking. I wanted some time to myself."

"You could have gone to your room."

Lena shrugged. "I didn't feel like it."

Abby narrowed her eyes, judging whether or not to pursue the topic, but the set of Lena's shoulders told her she probably wouldn't get any information from her, so she just sighed.

"So if you weren't upset about my dancing with Montford, why did you disappear like that? Mr. Rothwell said you looked like you had seen a ghost."

Lena shot her a frown. "I had a sudden thought that made me temporarily lose my composure, Abigail. Please, just leave it be."

Abby nodded, tucking away her thoughts to bring up later and mull over. Lena had never kept secrets from her, nor had she ever been so evasive. "As you wish," she said, trying not to sound too hurt.

Lena sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm just..." she lifted her hands to her head and rubbed her temples. Then she turned to Abby in a rush. "Might we go for a walk in Hyde Park, Abby? I feel like I'm going to go mad if I stay in this house a moment longer."

Abby blinked up at her cousin in mild surprise. "Certainly. Shall I fetch Greg and Montford to accompany us?"

Lena frowned. "I would rather they didn't. I'm sorry, I know you want to spend time with Montford, I just..."

"It's fine, Lena," Abby said in a soothing voice, trying to stamp down the sudden rush of concern for her cousin. She squeezed Lena's hand gently. "You go find one of the maids to accompany us and I'll have a carriage brought around."

Lena nodded, and gave her a small smile. Then she turned and walked away, and Zeus padded along behind her like a big, silent shadow.

Abby turned to make her way towards the stables, and froze in her tracks when she found herself face to face with Margot, standing at the bottom of the stairwell that led to the attic.

"What are you doing here?" they both asked simultaneously. Abby crossed her arms and frowned.

Margot did the same.

"That's not going to work, Gogo," she warned her cousin. "What were you doing in the attic?"

"I was hiding from Miss Buckham," Margot said instantly, setting her shoulders in what Abby recognized as a battle stance. Abby sighed. Sarah Buckham, Margot's governess, was probably hysterical by now, searching for her lost charge.

"If you were really hiding from her, it would be the last thing you would admit to," Abby replied.

Margot's scowl faltered, but it returned a heartbeat later, in full force. "Well, it's true, I am hiding from her."

But what else are you doing?

"Margot," Abby said with a sigh, "I do not have time to get the truth out of you now, but rest assured that I will." She put her hands on her cousin's shoulders and steered her gently towards the nursery. "Go. If you return on your own accord, Miss Buckham might be less inclined to tell your mother that you escaped."

"She won't tell," Margot muttered. "She doesn't even look for me."

Abby blinked. "Of course she does."

Margot shook her head and started back towards the nursery, mumbling to herself as she went.

Abby stared after her with a frown, shook her head and started back towards the main area of the house. Her thoughts were troubled, and her shoulderblades itched, as if someone watched her from the shadows. She sighed, and pushed away the sense of dread that pressed down on her like a heavy shroud; she was just concerned about Lena, that's all.

A refreshing afternoon walk would do them both good.

HELENA

Hyde Park was always busy in the morning, when the gentry came to see and be seen before making their rounds of friendly visits, light luncheons and delicate teas. It was always busy in the evenings, as well, when they came to see and be seen before they dispersed to attend lavish dinner parties, elegant operas and overcrowded ballrooms.

But when Lena and Abby stepped out of the carriage in the early afternoon, after the morning rush and just before the evening parade, the park was quiet and calm. By the lake, a handful of nannies watched over their charges and exchanged idle gossip, and several gentlemen reclined in the shade of the pavilion with glasses of wine. Otherwise, this part of Hyde Park was blessedly empty.

Emily, Abby's maid, followed a few steps behind them as Lena and Abby made their way down one of the wooded paths that snaked around the lake. In the shade, the air was cool and damp, a subtle sign that winter was never very far away, especially now that the Season was nearing its end.

For a while, neither of them spoke, they just walked, arms linked together, as they had all their lives. Lena knew Abby was worried, and curious, and that despite her worry she would never pressure Lena to speak. But she didn't have to. Lena could feel the words building up in her throat, aching to be said. She had never kept secrets from Abby until this year. Until she had met the man she had fallen in love with, whose face she had never seen.

It sounded ridiculous. It sounded mad.

But it had to be said. She knew it had to be said. Just as she'd known that if she tried to stay in her house with him without being able to be near him, she would have gone insane. "I am in love."

Abby just smiled. "I know."

Lena waited for the inevitable questions. Who is he? What's his name? But Abby did not ask.

"How long have you known?"

Abby shrugged. "Since January. Your letters started becoming more... I don't know... more joyful. Lighter." She squeezed Lena's hand. "Happier."

Lena sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Don't be," Abby said instantly. "I know you had good reason."

Lena chuckled. "Good reason? The only reason I didn't tell you was because you would have thought I had gone mad."

"Lena, you are the most reasonable and logical person I have ever known," Abby said with an unladylike roll of her eyes. "When we were children, you sat down with me and actually tried to figure out who the Forest Spirit was."

Lena grinned, joy alighting within her as the memory rose up in her mind. "I remember that. How old were we? Eight?" That was the same year she had nearly drowned and her night terrors had begun, when her father had gone to Geneva and brought Abby back to stay with Lena for the summer. Abby had been full of delightful and distracting tales of the Forest Spirit who had helped the DeLaceys through the harsh, bitter winter.

"Hmm. Seven or eight," Abby mused. "I remember, you sat me down very formally over your little tea set and calmly listed out the reasons why there were no such things as spirits, and how it must have just been a very strong, very determined, and very secretive man." She narrowed her eyes at Lena. "While at the very same time you insisted that you were saved from the river by an angel."

"I was eight," Lena replied with a shrug. "He pulled me out of the rapids. He must have been incredibly powerful to have..."

A long, heavy pause settled between them, filled only by the distant chirping of birds and the soft buzz of crickets.

Together they said, "Do you think perhaps...?" and they both laughed.

"It's not possible," Lena said with a shake of her head. "They couldn't be the same man."

"But you said your angel had long black hair," Abby said excitedly, "and so did the Forest Spirit. He spoke to me once, you know."

Lena grinned. "Yes, I know, I've heard the story a thousand times."

"He was so tall, taller than any man I've ever met," Abby said, a wistful note in her voice.

"You were a child, all adults are tall to a child," Lena stated.

"Oh, don't be stubborn," Abby teased. "Even a child can tell when an adult is especially tall."

"Yes, well, so he was tall," Lena replied with an indignant sniff. "That doesn't mean he wasn't human."

"But his eyes, Lena! They were yellow! And they glowed."

"Of course they did, dear," Lena said in a soothing, semi-mocking tone. Sometimes it was fun to agitate Abby, she could curse in several different languages, and Lena always learned a new epithet.

But something was nagging her, a thought or memory just out of her reach. She tried to recall it, letting the smile fall from her face as she stared off into the trees. It was something Abby had said, a long, long time ago.

Something about scars.

"Lena?" Abby said with sudden concern, squeezing Lena's arm.

"Sorry," Lena replied absently, "I was just thinking about your Forest Spirit. Didn't you once say that he had..."

"Lena!" Abby interrupted in a hushed, frantic voice. "Who are those men?"

Lena blinked and turned her gaze forward, where two large men stood blocking the path twenty feet away. Both had identical grins on their faces, and a hungry look in their eyes. Abby and Lena stopped in their tracks, staring at the men in silence.

"On three," Lena whispered, her voice so soft it was barely audible above the gentle breeze. She tapped Abby's arm with one finger.

One.

A heartbeat passed, and the men made no move to approach them. She tapped Abby's arm again.

Two.

From behind them came a voice that made Lena's skin crawl.

"If you run, she dies."

Ice slithered through her veins, tensing her muscles and curling her hands into fists. She released Abby's arm and turned around. It felt like the entire world had frozen, and had shrunk to the size of a small room, in which she now stood, facing Jacob, Viscount Stanford.

So he did not leave the country after all.

He looked like he'd just left his club, still half drunk and dead tired. There were dark circles beneath his eyes; his face was pale and drawn. His cravat was untied, and his shirt was wrinkled and stained. And he was holding a gun to Emily's head.

"We will not run," Lena said in a soft, soothing voice. Inside, her thoughts were wild and panicked, screaming through her head and demanding that she do something, say something, anything... "Please, my lord," she said gently, "let her go."

Stanford blinked at her, as if this wasn't the response he had expected. He looked... confused. His eyes darted behind them, and widened slightly. Lena fought the sudden, instinctive urge to spin back around, and instead she dug her heels into the gravel path and squeezed her hands more tightly into fists.

"Please, Jacob," she said, "please let Emily go. We cannot outrun a bullet."

Stanford's eyes darted from Emily back to Lena, and he nodded jerkily. He released her arm and stepped away from her, and she sank down to the ground with a sob. Lena felt the vice around her heart loosen a tiny bit in relief.

"Emily," Lena began to speak, but the maid's hysterical crying cut her off. "Emily, look at me," Lena snapped. Emily's eyes popped open and her sobs quieted. Lena had never spoken to her in that tone. "I would like you to return to the house, now," Lena said in a slow, deliberate voice. "Do you understand?"

Emily blinked, sniffled, and nodded once. She stood up slowly. Lena could see her trembling, and worried for a moment that Emily might faint, but then, bless the girl, she turned on her heel, grabbed her skirt with both hands, lifted it above her knees and took off running, disappearing down the path in a matter of seconds.

Lena let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Then she looked at Stanford.

"Thank you," she said simply.

"Think nothing of it," came another voice from behind them. As one, Lena and Abby turned to find a new stranger standing between the two large bodyguards, watching them with a wide, satisfied smile on his face. He was handsome, at first glance, with his curling blond hair and tanned skin. His suit was tailored perfectly, and an emerald glittered in the folds of his cravat. But there was something about his eyes, and that smile, that made a shiver crawl down Lena's spine. There was something not quite right about this man.

The stranger shrugged. "I was going to let her go anyway."

"Who are you?" Abby demanded angrily. Lena grabbed her hand and squeezed hard. Be quiet, Abby!

"My name is Jack," he replied, sweeping them an elegant bow. "This is Alfred," he pointed to the large man to his left, with long red-brown hair, "and this is Henry," he pointed to the man on his right, with the short black hair, "and you are already acquainted with Lord Stanford, of course."

Stanford moved around to stand next to Henry. "I have done my part," he said, his voice hoarse and slightly slurred. "Give me my money."

"Quite right, my good man. You have done your part." The man named Jack's smile didn't waver a moment. In one fluid motion, he pulled a pistol from the pocket of his coat, aimed it straight at Stanford's heart, and pulled the trigger. Stanford dropped to the ground, dead.

Lena had dreamed of this moment many times before, of seeing the bastard lying lifeless on the ground before her. In the past, the picture had filled her with bitter triumph, and it had helped soothe the pain of his betrayal and abandonment.

But now, staring down at the man who had caused her such pain and sadness, she felt only pity. He had never been a good man.

And now he never would be.

Abby, who had seen her share of suffering and pain in the world, did not flinch either.

The man named Jack looked up at them, and though that eerie smile did not falter, his eyebrows raised just slightly. Was he surprised at their lack of reaction? Had he expected them to faint?

"Very well, my dear ladies. Follow me, if you please. Alfred, plant the instructions on the body."

"You're leaving instructions?" Abby asked in a carefully toneless voice. Lena jabbed her in the ribs. Be quiet!

Jack nodded, smile still in place. "Yes, of course," he said cheerfully. "What's the point of baiting a trap if your prey doesn't even know where to find it?"