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"I understand you. Don't become angry."

"He was a scholar," she said, a little more gently. "He had all the money he needed. If he made a mistake, it was that he left his company to his brother, and to his nephew, but then he paid them so very well."

She stopped. She felt weary suddenly. Beneath the euphoria, she had been ever mindful of what happened; and the pain had only begun.

"Something went wrong," she whispered.

"Greed is what went wrong. Greed is what always goes wrong."

He was looking out the window at the dull, broken windows above. Foul smells rose from the puddles and from the doorways. The stench of urine, and decay.

She herself had never been in this part of London. It saddened her; it exacerbated her own pain.

"This Henry should be stopped," Ramses said firmly. "Before he tries again to hurt you. And your father's death, surely you want it avenged."

"It will kill my uncle Randolph when he finds out what happened. That is, if he doesn't already know."

"The uncle, the one who came this morning with such fear for you--he's innocent and is afraid for his son. But cousin Henry is evil. And the evil is unchecked."

She was trembling. The tears had risen to her eyes.

"I can't do anything now. He's my cousin. They're my only family. And when something is done, it will have to be in a court of law."

"You are in danger, Julie Stratford," he said to her.

"Ramses, I am not a Queen here. I cannot act on my own."

"But I am a King. I always will be. My conscience can bear this burden. Let me act when I see fit."

"No!" she whispered. She looked up at him imploringly. He pressed his arm against her, gently, then reached as if to embrace her. She held steady. "Promise me you will do nothing. If something happens, it will be on my conscience too."

"He killed your father."

"Kill him and you kill my father's daughter," she said.

There was a silent moment in which he merely looked at her, marvelling perhaps, she couldn't tell. She felt his right arm on her left arm. Then he drew her close to him, her breasts against his chest, and he kissed her, his mouth opening over hers. The heat was immediate and utterly consuming. She reached up to push him away, and found her fingers slipping up through his hair. She cradled his head gently. And then drew back, thoughtlessly, astonished.

For a moment she couldn't speak. Her face was flushed, and she felt soft all over, and utterly exposed. She closed her eyes. She knew that if he touched her again, the game was up. She would end up making love to him in this cab, if she didn't do something....

"What did you think I was, Julie?" he asked. "A spirit? I'm an immortal man."

He moved to kiss her again; she moved away, her hand up.

"Shall we speak again of Henry?" he asked. He took her hand and clasped it and kissed her fingers. "Henry knows what I am. He saw, because I moved to save your life, Julie. He saw. And there is no reason to let him live with this knowledge, since he is evil and deserves to die."

He knew she could hardly concentrate on the words he was speaking. It made her angry suddenly, his lips grazing her fingers, his blue eyes flashing like lights in the dim cab.

"Henry made a fool of himself with that story," she said. "And he won't try to hurt me again." She withdrew her hand and looked out the window. They were leaving this sad, miserable slum. Thank God.

He gave a little thoughtful shrug.

"Henry's a coward," she said. Her body was under control again. "A terrible coward. The way he did it to Father, such a coward."

"Cowards can be more dangerous than brave men, Julie," he said.

"Don't hurt him!" she whispered. She turned again to face Ramses. "For my sake, leave it to God. I can't be his judge and jury!"

"So like a Queen," he said. "And wiser than most Queens."