Chapter Thirteen
One year later …
There were vines growing about the doorway of Forsythe manor. A vegetable garden and abundant flowers bloomed. Rebecca cut lilies every day when they were in blossom and brought bouquets into the house to lend their fragrance to her simple home.
Her twisted life seemed peaceful now, so much more orderly and sane after two years of absurdities. It was often a trial for her living without the excitement and the rush of a libertine life, but her husband, Duncan, managed to set her straight when her mind would wander on to thieving things.
Her last arrest would be her last. Duncan deliberately planned it that way. On arriving in Italy, he’d located a man who’d recently returned from England with an Englishwoman as his slave. Once certain that woman was R
