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"Do?" Tom Burnet wanted to make sure he was understanding the taciturn man properly. This was his most expensive property. He licked the paper, shaping the cigarette as he lightly pressed the paper together.

"I'll buy it, with a minor stipulation added."

Here's where the customer haggled, Tom understood, hoping to lower the price because he knew it had been sitting vacant for almost four years. "I'm sure we can come to some agreement," Tom said, already calculating how much to go down on the first go-round.

"I'd like a cleaning crew up here within the hour. I want the house thoroughly washed from top to bottom by eight tonight. Hire as many people as you need. And I'll be picking out some minimum furniture when we get back to town. Could you see that it's delivered immediately? Provided the house is warm, clean, and livable by eight o'clock tonight, I'll pay each worker an extra bonus of a hundred dollars."

"Deal," Tom Burnet said, his breath half lodged in his throat in astonishment. "Eight o'clock it is."

"How soon can we be back to Helena?"

"Half hour, for sure."

"I'll have the banker bring you over a bank draft for the price of the property. What bank would you suggest to a newcomer?"

Etienne carried letters of credit from Amsterdam and Paris. He'd come prepared to buy a home although he hadn't planned on doing it so promptly. But he was pleased the opportunity had arisen. He could build something more substantial than a log home later, but he'd have his own dwelling in the meantime. Never comfortable like Isabelle, staying endlessly at other people's homes for country weekends or autumn hunts or summer weeks at the seashore, he'd always preferred having his own residences. He looked forward to having Daisy to himself tonight.

His banking accomplished on his return to town, Etienne selected several pieces of furniture at a shop stocking Liberty of London's products, then bought a fine quality sleigh bed much like the one he had in Normandy at his hunting box from a craftsman who restored antique furniture. Helena's mining base and lumbering interests produced a large number of millionaires for a town of modest size, and the merchants offered a variety of luxury products for the carriage trade. Etienne even found a leather club chair like his one at home.

The familiar chair helped in his startling adjustment to a new frontier life. He'd place it before the fireplace in the master bedroom. Right next to the small settee he'd bought for Daisy. That wouldn't do, he thought a moment later… he wanted her in his arms. The chair could go near the window for reading. He added a down-cushioned velvet couch to his order. There. At least they'd be comfortable this evening. And tomorrow, Daisy could buy what else was needed to furnish the house.

"You bought a house? Timms said you bought a house?" Daisy whispered in shocked surprise, as Etienne hugged her in the large entrance hall of her family's home.

"You weren't going to be back till dinner." He'd had Louis bring his luggage to the ranch, along with the furniture delivery, and when he'd left from the valley a half-hour ago in the new buggy he'd purchased, lights were glowing in the ranch-house windows, the scent of soap and wax permeated the rooms, Louis was preparing his favorite punch cup, and the green velvet sofa was in place before the fireplace in the master bedroom.

"I'll show you later tonight," he murmured.

"Where is it? How did you find it?"

"The ranch is in Clear River Valley. Lord, you look wonderful. The weeks were endless. You
feel
wonderful," he added, smiling as he released her, his gaze taking in the rest of the family coming in from the small parlor off the foyer. "Everyone's here, I see."

Daisy nodded, her brows simultaneously rising in inquiry. Dozens of questions were running through her mind, but her parents were waiting to say hello, as were Trey and Empress, all having stayed in town tonight to welcome Etienne to Helena.

"Sorry about the mix-up at the station. We intended the entire family be out in force to meet you," Hazard said, still in the clothes he'd worn to court, their family dinners without the protocol of evening dress.

"My telegram was probably unclear," Etienne replied, handing his light wool topcoat to Timms. "No need to apologize. I used the time to settle in. I bought a house, hired some servants, and, in general, made myself comfortable." Taking Daisy's hand in his, he pulled her dose, his smile warm. "I hope you like the Clear River Valley."

"You bought Viscount Enfield's place. That's a nice piece of property," Trey declared. "His stables were fashioned after his father's stud in Ireland. They're prime."

"I haven't had a chance to look at them yet, but the agent mentioned they were extensive. I'm hoping to raise some racers out of the same bloodlines as my Grand Prix winner who died this summer."

Tell me about Isabelle, why she suddenly changed her mind, Daisy wanted to say, when Etienne spoke of his black thoroughbred Morocco, but she couldn't just blurt it out while everyone was making polite conversation. Etienne's telegram had only said,
Isabelle agrees to a divorce. Make wedding plans
. She squeezed his hand and he turned briefly to smile at her before turning his attention back to Trey.

"You'll have to race with us at the summer hunt next year," Trey said. "Horses are brought in from as far as the West Coast to race against our homebred ponies. The heavy betting always makes the outcome more interesting."

"Timms is signaling me dinner is ready. You lead the way, Trey," Blaze said. "And if you like racing, Etienne, you'll find plenty of competition at the summer hunt."

"I don't suppose Daisy told you the Absarokee are inveterate gamblers," Empress said, giving a teasing look to her husband, as they preceded Daisy and the Duc into the dining room.

"A little wager makes the run more exciting and gives a pleasant edge to victory," Trey replied. "The betting book at the Jockey Club's no different. When I was in Paris last, they were taking odds on whether the Duc de Richelieu's wife would run off with her groom or wait until old Richelieu died and then marry the young fellow. How did it turn out by the way?" Trey asked, seating Empress.

"She didn't wait."

"How romantic," Empress said, looking across the table with a smile. She wore a modest dinner dress with a shallow scooped neckline in spring-green to match her eyes, with a single strand of pearls lying glistening around her neck.

"But a poor gamble," the Duc said, noting how Trey's darkness complemented his wife's golden beauty, and how his eyes followed her when she spoke. "She should have had more patience," he said ironically, "because Richelieu died only two months after she ran off."

"You men are too practical." Empress's remark was facetious.

"Right," the Duc dryly declared. If he were a practical man, he would have walked away from the sensuous Miss Black as soon as his need for her had begun threatening his comfortable existence. A practical man wouldn't find himself on the frontier in Helena, Montana, the new owner of a two-story log home of vast proportions, sitting beside a woman pregnant with his child, whom he may or may not be able to marry before that child was born.

"Well,
some
men are practical," Daisy said, her smile sweet, the heated depths of her eyes as tantalizing as the first time he'd met her at Adelaide's.

"And then again, some men are lucky," the Duc quietly murmured, wondering how long this dinner would last and how long after that, one would be required to be polite.

"If everyone's too well-mannered to ask, I will," Blaze said into the small silence that had fallen as the two lovers forgot for a moment others were present. "Why
did
Isabelle change her mind about the divorce?"

It took the Duc a moment to answer, his mind dwelling on Daisy lying on his new bed. "She turned out to be somewhat of a gambler herself," he answered. "Like Richelieu's wife. Only with Isabelle it was priests instead of grooms."

"Priests?" Hazard's voice was amused.

Having met the Duchesse de Vec, Trey was momentarily confounded by the disclosure. "You're sure?" he quietly expostulated, setting down his fish fork. Cool, almost cold, the perfectly dressed, exquisitely coiffed Duchesse seemed the least likely woman to indulge in such lurid excess.

"Positive." The Duc's smile was warm, pleasant, triumphant.

"Why was she so incautious… with the contentious divorce?" Trey inquired, Valerie's excessive lifestyle prominent in his thoughts. Even Valerie knew circumspect behavior was required under certain conditions, and unlike the Duchesse de Vec who gave the impression she found sentiment and emotion vulgar, Valerie was profligate in her lovelife.

"Isabelle was at home where she felt secure. The servants were never allowed to enter her room without an express invitation."

"Who discovered… the situation?" Daisy inquired, her curiosity couched in tactful language.

"I did," Etienne answered.

Everyone was too polite to ask for the details.

But Hazard, having lived long in a contentious world, asked the pertinent question. "Were there witnesses?"

"One very good one. Which was what convinced Isabelle, I think, to reconsider her position. The divorce should be concluded in four to six months, Bourges tells me. I told him four would be more acceptable."

"A winter wedding then," Blaze cheerfully said. "Ermine and white velvet would be nice."

"With white orchids," Empress added. "And a Viennese orchestra."

"And all the children strewing rose petals."

"Dressed in Gainsborough fashion."

"You might like to get in a word, Daisy," Hazard teased, "before they have your honeymoon planned as well."

"Do you care?" Daisy asked the Duc, knowing her own feelings on the subject, but not sure of his.

"No," he quietly said. The style of wedding was incidental to his happiness. "Can we go soon?" he whispered.

She nodded. "We give you permission to freely orchestrate the wedding of your choice," Daisy said, smiling at Blaze and Empress. "As long as I don't have to make lists or wear a dress styled for an ingenue."

"No Gainsborough white gauze for Daisy," Empress said, making an imaginary note in her palm.

"And not an enormous crowd. I detest crushes. Now if you'll excuse us, we're leaving," Daisy added, pushing her chair back and putting her hand out for Etienne.

"You've hardly eaten," Blaze said.

"I'm sure Etienne's staff can make them something to eat later," Hazard interposed.

"Could you spare Daisy for a few days from court?" Etienne inquired. His question was a polite query only; he had no intention of returning her for at least a week. He'd been courteous through three courses, three courses longer than his desire could comfortably manage.

"Of course," Hazard said. "Daisy hasn't been working such long hours lately. She was just filling in for a day. Let us know if you need anything up in the valley."

"I'm having a telegraph line and phone put in this week, so soon we won't be isolated." Standing with Daisy's hand in his, he felt an overwhelming need to hold her for a thousand years. The past weeks had been unremittingly lonely.

Daisy squeezed his hand as if understanding his feelings. "We'll keep in touch," she said.

Everyone understood… visitors weren't welcome.