“Don’t sell my ticket to anyone else,” she warned, and he swore on his mother’s life that he would never do such a thing.

“To see your children again will be too wonderful a thing, and I would not be so cruel, señora!”

As good as his word, the ticket agent saw to it that she had the best stateroom available. She had to admit that it was nicer than she had expected, given the limited space for passengers on the vessel. What did it matter, after all, if the cabin was small? It was only for a few weeks anyway, and then she would be in England, where it was cool and her children would be to welcome her.

Had Pierre married Lorna Prendergast yet? Lorna’s father had sent a few trinkets for his daughter with Ginny, a velvet box with a necklace of huge topaz stones to match Lorna’s eyes. He doted on her, spoiled her rotten and bragged that she would marry a duke and be a duchess.

Sam Murdock had only smiled, and accompanied Ginny from New Mexico back to San Antonio, his lavish Pullman gliding over the rails with such swift efficiency she had almost regretted the end of the journey.

“I have a meeting with the senator,” he said when she expressed her gratitude for his generosity and companionship on the trip, “and thought perhaps you might prefer having my company.”

For Ginny, seeing William Brandon again had been a bittersweet parting, for she had never seen him look so distressed or so old, not even after he had been shot. It struck her, seeing him in this new light, that she had never really known him, not the real man, not the man capable of such greed and deception, such careless cruelty.

Perhaps his crimes were catching up with him, reflected now in his face and eyes, in his slower step and the air of defeat that wreathed him.

“Give Sonya my love,” she had said when she left him in San Antonio. She wondered if she would ever see either of them again. Time and circumstances took her so far at times, were so often uncertain….

Where would she go once she had her children with her again? Would Steve come after them, or just after the children?

When the steamer chugged slowly out of the harbor, Ginny stood at the porthole watching the shoreline fade into the distance, feeling melancholy and pensive.

Silly of me, she thought, but I had hoped Steve might come after me, as he did before. It’s all so futile, when I had such hope….

The heat was crushing, oppressive in the stuffy confine of the stateroom. In desperation Ginny abandoned privacy and made her way above deck. She moved to the rail, ignoring the interested gazes in her direction, grateful for the feel of the cooler wind on her face and in her hair.