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curtains that billowed in the soft night breeze.
    Edith lay sprawled on the huge master bed, still wearing the silk gown she had dined in, her face contorted with pleasure. Avery was lying on top of her, almost fully clothed, his body pumping between her legs while he held her arms stretched above her head.
    Before Selena could move, he gave a final thrust, eliciting another muffled cry from Edith. “Be quiet, my dear,” Avery ordered hoarsely, “or you’ll wake the entire household.”
    His back was to the door, so Selena couldn’t see his expression, but she could hear the annoyance in his tone. He shuddered once more, then withdrew abruptly and stood up. Pushing down the hem of Edith’s disheveled gown to cover her gartered thighs, he began fastening the buttons at the front of his pantaloons. Edith’s eyes opened then, and they were almost black with sensual pain.
    Selena stood there frozen, trying to take in what she was seeing. When Avery carefully began brushing the marks Edith’s slippers had made on his silk waistcoat and his dove-gray pantaloons, though, Selena gasped and took an involuntary step back, her appalled mind finally comprehending. She had known she couldn’t demand fidelity from Avery, but to betray her with her own stepmother! In the very bed where she had been born!
    Edith raised her head then and stared at the curtained windows for such a long moment that Selena realized her gasp must have been heard. She knew she ought to leave at once so that she wouldn’t witness any further evidence of Avery’s betrayal, but the nausea welling in her stomach kept her rooted where she stood long enough to hear Edith’s next words.
    “How can you marry that chaste little puritan?” Edith asked as Avery strode over to the dressing table chair, where his coat was draped. “Selena won’t give you what I do.”
    With infinite care, Avery picked up his jacket and began examining it for creases. “Precisely because she is chaste, my dear,” he replied in a bored tone.
    “And
because she owns the land you covet—don’t deny it! If Thomas had left me the plantation, you would be marrying me.”
    “Gentlemen take virgins to wife, my dear, not wantons. You, Edith, are a complete wanton. Selena, on the other hand, is a lady. She hasn’t a wanton bone in her body.”
    Selena took another step backward, digging her nails into her palms to keep from crying out her hurt and humiliation.
    “You’ll miss this when you are married,” Edith declared irritably.
    “I’ve told you before, I don’t intend to give you up simply because I have a wife. I mean to have you both as well as the land.”
    Edith cast a glance at the windows then and smiled slyly, triumphantly. Selena turned away, stumbling, blinded by tears, knowing only that she had to escape her home.
    Somehow she found her way to the stables and threw a bridle over the head of her favorite horse—a white mare named Pallas. They made a pale blur in the moonlight as they streaked through the night, heading for the sea. Sobbing with anger and pain, Selena bent low over the mare’s neck, her hair streaming in a silver cloud behind her.
    When they reached the quiet cove, the glittering waves of the Caribbean stretched out to infinity before them. Nearly blinded by tears, hardly aware of what she was doing, Selena flung herself from the mare’s back and threw herself at the swelling surf, driven by a primal need for solace.
    “What in blazes…?” a startled voice growled behind her just as the warm sea closed over her head.
    She felt her slippers come off as she struck out wildly through the waves. The skirts of her wrapper and nightdress had entangled with her bare legs, making it difficult to stay afloat, yet when she heard a shout from that same masculine voice and then a splash, as if someone had dived in after her, Selena redoubled her efforts. She was too distraught to face her pursuer. She only wanted to be left alone.
    In only a moment,