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dead?” She was having trouble grasping what he said. Everything seemed to be spinning around just outside her reach.
    â€œThe former earl is dead. I’m Justin Ross, the fifth and current Lord Greville, the man who has been paying for your finery, for your room, board, and education. As you might imagine, it comes to a very tidy sum.”
    â€œYes, I-I’m sure it does. That is one of the things I wished to speak to the earl—I mean you—about.” Dear God, the earl was dead. She didn’t really know him, hadn’t seen him in more than four years, but she had been certain that he was the one who’d been helping her.
    â€œI believe you spoke to the earl about those things some time back. I believe the two of you came to an arrangement more than four years ago.”
    She swallowed, forced a little courage into her spine. “I suppose at the time we did.”
    â€œAs I understand it, in exchange for your education and expenses, you agreed, upon reaching your maturity, to become the earl’s mistress.”
    Bluntly spoken, but true. “Yes, but I … I was younger then. I didn’t exactly realize—”
    â€œYou’re some years older now, nearly nineteen, if I recall, no longer an innocent young girl—as evidenced by your conduct with Mr. Marlin.” Ariel blanched. “You’ve received an extensive, extremely costly education. I would imagine during that time you came to understand exactly the bargain you made—is that not so?”
    Misery washed over her. Her stomach rolled with nausea. “Yes.”
    â€œStill, you accepted the money I sent you, let me pay your tuition.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou allowed me to purchase your clothing—that gown, for instance, that you are wearing.”
    Unconsciously she smoothed the lovely apricot silk, her fingers brushing a row of delicately embroidered roses. A painful knot rose in her throat. “Yes.”
    â€œSince that is the case, the bargain must remain.”
    Tears burned behind her eyes. She blinked several times, refusing to let them fall. “Yes.…” Her throat ached. Dear God, she had never believed it would actually come to this.
    The earl turned and started walking, making his way the several short paces into the hall outside the carved double doors. He was tall and lean and dark, and the powerful presence he exuded seemed to remain in the room even as he walked away. Pausing, he turned once more to face her.
    â€œI require your presence upstairs, Miss Summers.” He didn’t bother to wait, simply started walking again, certain she would follow. Sick with dread, she did, letting him move ahead of her as if he were the master and she the slave, ignoring the insult, continuing up the wide stone staircase, along the sconce-lined hall, and into the master suite.
    She had never been inside the rooms before. Now she noticed in some vague corner of her mind the dull blue Turkish carpet, the faded velvet draperies that thinned the weak sun trying to press through the mullioned windows. Not surprisingly, the huge suite of rooms was as dark and dreary as the rest of the house.
    Lightning cracked outside. Gray, angry clouds blotted the sun, the storm now a full-fledged gale. With an eerie hiss, the wind thrust its way beneath the windowsill. Ariel’s footsteps slowed as the earl passed the marble-topped furniture in the sitting room and continued on into his bedchamber. He didn’t stop until he reached the foot of his massive four-poster bed.
    For a moment she paused, her heart pounding raggedly. She could feel his eyes on her, wintry gray, cold as the north wind blowing outside the house. He stood there waiting, his expression glacial as she slowly, tentatively, made her way toward him, stopping just inside the bedchamber door.
    â€œClose it,” he commanded. Icicles dripped from his voice. Instead of the hot rage her father had unleashed on her