I woke up alone, swathed in sheets that held the incense of sex and skin. Huddling deeper beneath the covers, I watched the first rays of morning creep through the window. The night with Gage had left me feeling steadier, able to handle whatever lay ahead. I had slept against him all night, not hiding, just taking shelter. I had always managed to find strength in myself—but it had been a revelation to draw strength from someone else.

Getting out of bed. I went through the empty condo to the kitchen, and picked up the phone to dial the Travis mansion.

Carrington picked up on the second ring. '"Hello1?"

'"Baby, it's me. I had a sleepover at Gage's last night. I'm sorry I didn't call you—by the time I remembered, it was too late."

"Oh. that's okay," my sister said. "Aunt Gretchen made popcorn, and she and Churchill and I watched the silliest old movie with lots of singing and dancing. It was great."

"Are you getting ready for school?"

"Yes, the driver's going to take me in the Bentley."

I shook my head ruefully as I heard her casual tone. "You sound just like a River Oaks kid."

"I have to finish my breakfast. My cereal's getting soggy."

"All right. Carrington. would you do something for me? Tell Churchill I'll be there in about half an hour, and I need to talk to him about something important."

"About what?"

"Grown-up stuff. I love you."

"Love you too. Bye!"

Churchill was waiting for me near the family room fireplace. So familiar and yet a stranger. Of all the men in my life, I had known Churchill the longest and depended on him the most. There was no getting around the fact that he was the closest thing to a father I had ever known.

I loved him.

And he was going to let loose with a few secrets now or I would kill him.

"Morning." he said, his gaze searching.

"Morning. How are you feeling?"

"Fair enough. And you?"

"I'm not sure," I said truthfully. "Nervous, I guess. A little angry. A lot confused."

With Churchill, you never had to lead gracefully into a touchy subject. You could blurt out just about anything and he would handle it with no problem. Knowing that made it easier for me to walk across the room, stop in front of him, and let it roll.

"You knew my mother," I said.

The fire in the hearth sounded like a flag whipping and flapping on a windy day.

Churchill answered with astonishing self-possession. "I loved your mother." He let me absorb that for a moment, and then gave a decisive nod. "Help me move to the sofa; Liberty. The chair seat's digging into the backs of my legs."

We both took temporary refuge in the logistics of transferring him from the wheelchair to the sofa, more a matter of balance than strength. I fetched an ottoman, propped it beneath the cast, gave Churchill a couple of small pillows to wedge against his side. When he was comfortably settled, I sat next to him and waited with my arms wrapped tight around my middle.

Churchill fished out a slim wallet from his shirt pocket, searched through its contents. handed me a tiny ancient black-and-white photo with tattered edges. It was my mother as a very young woman, beautiful as a movie goddess, and there were words written in her own hand. "To my darling C. love, Diana. "

"Her father—your grandfather—worked for me," Churchill said, taking back the photo, holding it in the palm of his hand like a religious artifact. "I was already a widower when I met Diana at a company picnic. Gage was barely out of diapers. He needed a mother, and I needed a wife. It was obvious from the start Diana was wrong in just about every way. Too young, too pretty, too fiery. None of that mattered." He shook his head, remembering. Gruffly, "My God, I loved that woman."

I watched him without blinking. I couldn't believe Churchill was opening a window to my mother's life, the past she had never talked about.

"I went after her with everything I had," Churchill said. "Whatever I thought would tempt her. I told her right off I wanted to marry her. She got pressure from all sides, especially her family. The Truitts were middle-class, and they knew if Diana married me there was no limit to what I'd give 'em." Without shame he added. "I made sure Diana knew that too."

I tried to think of Churchill as a young man. pursuing a woman with every weapon at his disposal. "Jesus, what a circus it must have been."

"I bullied, bribed, and talked her into loving me. I got an engagement ring on her finger." He gave a sneaky laugh that I found sort of endearing. "Give me long enough and I grow on a person."

"Did Mama really love you. or was it an act?" I asked, not meaning to be hurtful, just

needing to know.

Being Churchill, he didn't take it the wrong way. "There were moments I think she did. But in the end it wasn't enough."

"What happened? Was it Gage? She didn't want to be a mother so soon?"

"No, it had nothing to do with that. She seemed to like the boy well enough, and I promised her we'd hire nannies and housemaids, all the help she'd ever need."

"Then what? I can't imagine why... Oh."

My father had gotten in the way.

I felt instant sympathy for Churchill, and at the same time a jab of pride in the father I had never known, who had managed to steal my mother away from a rich and powerful older man.

"That's right," Churchill said, as if he could read my thoughts. "Your daddy was everything I wasn't. Young, handsome, and as my daughter Haven would say, disenfranchised."