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man could want—money, women, power, physical strength—one
stammering mouse of a cousin could not supply him with much.
    Or so he believed .
    How did it happen?
When? She filled the empty spaces of his being with one smile. The scent of
her skin was like dew, moistening the cracks in his parched soul. Clara’s
touch, her kiss, her voice seemed to give flesh to his bones and—and—he needed her.
    “I cannot live without her,” he realized aloud.
    The shadows in his tiny room did not reply but he had the
answer to his question. He knew what he had to do. After he rescued Clara from Gateshead , regardless of what happened at the shareholders’
meeting tomorrow, Branson would never see his cousin again.
    He loved her too much to trap her the way he had been
trapped.

 
    §

 
    CLARA SHIVERED violently, her teeth
clattered together in her head like rain on a roof. It was the effect of the
ice bath wearing off; after one was frozen to the core, shivering indicated a
return to normal body temperature. She was too cold to feel anger or affront;
too cold to feel anything at all. Her body and mind was hard at work on
survival.
    They had returned her to her cell, swaddled in the
straightjacket and this time, she did not object. Her mind was dull, her limbs
had lost strength. Matron had cut her hair to above her shoulders to prevent it
from becoming caught in the buckles and restraints. Clara had felt nothing as
lock after lock of her hair fell to the tiled floor.
    She curled into a ball on the cot. Her feet were cold.
Matron said the orderly would bring her a blanket when she showed she could
behave herself. Clara had no desire to fight them anymore. There seemed little
point for she was never getting out of this place.
    Night wore on but sleep would not come. It was an odd method
of therapy, but the ice bath had settled her nerves—or simply numbed them out
of existence. Laura Mayhew’s ideas about Branson and his wife, Grace Leeds,
gave Clara plenty to think about and she could ponder her cousin’s actions
without feeling utterly destroyed in the process.
    Was Grace Leeds still alive? If she was, then Branson was
restrained by law from marrying Clara and it was possible he could not allow himself to love her. If Grace was
dead, then Branson was free and his reason for refusing to wed Clara was that he
was still in love with his wife.
    Clara’s eyes closed. She was weary of it all. Her physical
discomfort cancelled out all mental and emotional strain. She had promised she
would not give up but there seemed little reason to hold on. Branson would not
come. Married or not, he did not love her.
    She was too numb to feel her heart breaking.

Chapter Four

 
    October 1st ~ London

 
    EDGAR ENTERED the boardroom of Hamilton
Trading Company. The gentlemen assembled looked up in surprise, as well they
might. Edgar had not attended a meeting of the stockholders for many months. He
removed his cloak and hat and handed them to the porter.
    “Gentlemen.” He nodded and claimed the seat at the head of the table, raising
several eyebrows.
    The boardroom at Hamilton Trading was
luxuriously decorated in leather and hardwood panelling that had been polished
to a high gloss. The intricately carved boardroom table commanded the middle of
the room and between the high windows, hung the portraits of Hamilton directors
and chairmen.
    Into this established order, Edgar prepared
to launch his first volley. Captain Strachan sat at the far end of the table.
As the son of a Lord, Strachan was granted privileges above the merchants and
businessmen who held shares in the firm. Edgar knew better than to force the
gentlemen to choose between Lord Strachan’s son and
Arthur Hamilton’s. He made a pre-emptive strike.
    “Sirs, I am here with very good news. My
cousin, Mr. Branson Hamilton has authorized a substantial investment in
Hamilton Trading.”
    His father entered at that moment. Finding
his son seated at the head of the table, Arthur