briefly if his own mother still retained the essence of youth. He hadn't seen her in fifteen years, but she and Belladonna carried the St. Aubyn blood in their veins. In his mind Adam could only picture his mother as he'd last seen her; no amount of passing years could put wrinkles on her face or thicken her waist. She would always be the beautiful young woman who'd sent him away.
"Have you heard from your mother lately?" the duke asked, as if he'd read Adam's thoughts.
"Yes, both she and my brother are well."
"I cannot understand why your mother chose to remain in Istanbul when she could have returned to England," Belladonna said. "After all, your father is dead."
Adam sighed. He had explained his family's situation to her at least a hundred times, but his aunt refused to understand.
"At my brother's court in Istanbul, my mother is Sultana Valide, the most powerful woman in the empire," Adam told his aunt in a patient tone of voice, as if this was the first time he'd related the story.
"But she sent you, a prince in your own land, to liveâ"
"My mother sent me to England secretly," Adam interrupted, knowing full well what his aunt's next words would be. "My countrymen believe I died, otherwise my brother would have been forced to lock me up as the custom in my land demands. In olden days, he would have been required to execute me when my father died. There can be only one sultan. Eliminating all potential political rivals has kept the empire from crumbling beneath civil war."
Lady DeFaye shivered delicately and then smiled. "I understand now," she said.
Until the next time , Adam thought.
"I will never understand why your mother chose to stay with your father after the promise of her release had been secured," Belladonna remarked.
"Perhaps she loved her husband," the duke interjected. "Contrary to your own experience, some women actually love their husbands."
"Oh, really, Charles," Belladonna drawled, clearly unamused. "I valued Francis until the day he died." Her smile was feline when she added, "Fortunately, his death was sooner rather than later. What I can't understand is how a woman could love her abductor."
"My father did not abduct my mother," Adam corrected his aunt.
"His minions did abduct her from the ship bound for France," Belladonna reminded him.
Adam shrugged. "Apparently, love can be found in the most unlikely places. Being abducted and given as a gift to the sultan was my mother's fate, as was falling in love with him."
At that, Adam turned his head to stare out the window. Where would he find his own love? he wondered. Was she waiting for him at Abingdon Manor?
"You are frowning again," Belladonna said. "How will you secure a wife if you walk through life frowning?"
"Most women are attracted more by a man's finances than by his smile," Adam replied. "Besides, I was thinking, not frowning."
"About what?"
"A business matter."
"Have I told you how delightful Henry Savage's daughters are, especially Sabrina?" the duke asked, turning to his sister.
"Several times," Belladonna drawled.
Adam gazed out the coach window and contemplated Sabrina Savage. She was a tare and marvelous creature. In his mind's eye, he conjured up her sweet expression, her delicate features emboldened by emerald eyes and hair the color of molten fire.
The lady's temperament was as fiery as the color of her hair. Adam recalled the way she had defied the vicar and dismissed the baron. He admired her loyalty to her father and felt like applauding her plucky spirit. As long as she never directed it at him, they would get along harmoniously.
How fortunate for the late Earl of Abingdon to possess a daughter who demonstrated her love and loyalty even to the brink of his grave. Adam only wished that someday he would possess a wife and children who would honor and love him so much that they would defy the world for him.
If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride, Adam thought sardonically. Sabrina Savage was an