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"Get out," I hissed, my voice a raspy whisper.

"I . . . I'm sorry," he repeated and rushed out the door.

The moment he was gone, I collapsed on my bed and wailed. I cried hysterically, unable to stop the rage of anger and sorrow from possessing me. Every sad thing that had happened restated itself and demanded to be mourned with equal intensity. I was crying for the mother I had never seen or known; crying for Tom; crying for Troy; crying because of Logan's infidelity with Fanny; crying for Luke and for Stacie; and I was crying for Heaven, poor lost little Heaven Leigh Casteel.

The feel of a cool, soft little hand on my shoulder finally stopped my outburst of tears. I took a deep breath and turned my head. Little Drake was standing there looking down at me, his face filled with confusion, but his eyes also showing compassion.

"Don't cry," he said. "I won't go away."

"Oh, Drake. Drake!" I cried and pulled him to me, holding his small body as closely and as tightly as I could. "I won't let you go away. We need each other. Like two orphans." I kissed his forehead. "I'll always be here for you. Always."

1-le looked up at me, his face still a mirror of my own sorrow.

"I'll stop crying," I said. "Now, stop crying."

I lifted him onto my bed and we fell asleep curled up beside each other like two kittens who had lost their mother.

I awoke with Drake in my arms, his little head nestled softly against my bosom. Quietly, so as not to wake him, I slipped out of bed and got washed and dressed. It was still early and the house was quiet. The servants hadn't yet opened the curtains. Lights left on throughout the night were still on. I went down the marble stairway, moving quickly but softly, and found Curtis getting ready to start his day.

"Up early, Mrs. Stonewall," he said.

"I have a lot to do today, Curtis, and quickly. First call the airlines and make reservations for myself and Drake. We'll be going back to Winnerow this morning. Inform Miles. Send the maids up to Drake's room. I have some clothing I've packed and some I want them to pack. There are some suitcases in my room already packed. Have Miles take them down to the car. Please ask Rye to prepare a small, quick breakfast for Drake and myself. In a day or two I shall send for some other things to be packed and delivered to my home in Winnerow."

"You're leaving Farthinggale?" Curtis asked. I didn't respond. He took one look at the sternness in my face and started to carry out my commands immediately. When I went back upstairs, I found Drake was beginning to wake up. I got him out of bed, washed and dressed him quickly. He was impressed with my intensity and hardly said a word. The maids arrived and I gave them their orders. Drake watched as they began packing his things, but he asked nothing, even when Miles began taking some of it to the limo.

"We're going for a trip to Winnerow and my own home." I told him as I took his hand to lead him down to breakfast.

"Isn't this your home?" he asked me, his small voice filled with surprise and disappointment.

"No, it's Mr. Tatterton's," I said. I couldn't bring myself to say "my father's." "But don't worry. You'll have your own room again, and you know what? Logan is building a toy factory there. You'll see it."

That filled him with excitement and curiosity.

I saw that Curtis had reported my mood to the other servants. Everyone worked quickly, efficiently, quietly, communicated to one another with gestures and looks rather than words. I was expecting Tony to come downstairs any moment, dressed for work, and I was expecting him to try to talk me out of going. However, Drake and I finished our breakfast before he arrived. Even Curtis was surprised.

"Mr. Tatterton is late this morning," he said as if he had to make excuses for him. I didn't say anything. I took Drake back upstairs to my suite and placed a phone call to Logan.

"We're coming home," I told him as soon as he answered.

"Coming home?"

"Drake and I. I'll explain it all when I get there," I said.

I gave him the details concerning our flight and he said he would be at the airport. After I hung up the phone, I looked around the suite, checking for anything else I wanted to bring with me. Curtis came to the doorway to tell me that Miles had everything packed in the limo.

"That's fine, Curtis. Come along, Drake." I took his hand and we started out.

"Mrs. Stonewall," Curtis said when we were out in the corridor, "if I could trouble you for just one moment."

"What is it, Curtis?"

"Well, when Mr. Tatterton didn't come down, I thought I had better come up to check on him. I knocked on his door to see if he wanted anything brought up, but he didn't respond. And then . . ."

"Yes?" I saw that Curtis looked about as uncomfortable as I had ever seen him look. His face was flushed and he kept tugging on the collar of his shirt as though it were a size too small.

"I noticed the door to Mrs. Tatterton's suite was opened and I looked in to see if anything was wrong. Oh, dear," he said, shaking his head.

I was getting impatient with him. "What is it, Curtis? You know yourself I have to be on my way quickly."