Elise's mood soured by the day. Sterling avoided her whenever possible. He acted as if she had the plague, and it had begun to greatly annoy her. What of it if they were both developing feelings for each other? The rules of society no longer governed her. They were on equal ground now, yet he treated her as if she was either too good for him or perhaps not good enough.

"Arrogant man," she muttered as she quickly made her way to a nearby stream, bucket in hand.

"You shouldn't frown. Sterling won't think you are as pretty, and he won't like you."

She glanced down to see Dawn staring up at her. Elise hadn't noticed the girl squatting beside the water. She bent beside Dawn.

"How a person looks on the outside is not as important as what kind of person he or she is on the inside," Elise told the girl. "If you truly love someone, you must love everything about them."

Dawn pinched her lips together. "This is about my parents again, isn't it?"

"It's about everyone," Elise countered. "I've known some very attractive people who were ugly on the inside. And I wouldn't want Sterling to like me only because he thought me pretty."

The girl lifted a brow. "Isn't that the reason you like Sterling? I mean, because he's so handsome to look at?"

"Of course not," Elise chided. "Sterling is more than a handsome face. He's good-hearted, considerate most of the time, and honorable, well, most of the time."

"Most of the time?" Dawn looked as if she expected explanations.

"He did promise to teach me to dance, and he hasn't fulfilled that obligation." Annoyance washed over Elise. "Philip says we are to perform at a fair in three days' time and I'm not ready."

"I can teach you." Dawn's voice was very small.

"What?" Elise questioned the girl.

Dawn glanced around the clearing. "I used to watch Marguerite practice. I can teach you, but my parents mustn't find out. They like to believe they've sheltered me."

"I see." Elise lifted a brow. "So this would be a secret, just between the two of us?"

Cocking her head to the side, Dawn considered. "Yes," she answered, then grinned. "I've never had my very own secret before."

Elise laughed. "Everyone should have a secret or two, all their very own."

"Do you have secrets?"

Yes, she had secrets from the caravan troupe. They did not know about her uncle. And if she was honest with herself, she had another secret. Elise strongly suspected that she was in love with the Beast Tamer. She had never felt so miserable over someone ignoring her before, not even her uncle.

"If you dance like Marguerite used to dance, Sterling will like you again, I promise you that," Dawn assured her.

Elise frowned at the girl, but on the inside, she admitted that she very much wanted Sterling to like her. In fact, she very much wanted ignoring her to become impossible for him. Maybe the child knew more about these matters than Elise did.

Sterling lost himself in the crowd. The fair was good-sized and should line the troupe's pockets well, but he would not earn his keep tonight. He'd told Philip that he didn't feel up to a performance, the truth being, the cats now regarded him differently. They were uneasy with him, with what they sensed lurked beneath his skin. Philip hadn't pressed him, deciding instead to partition the animals off and charge a fee for anyone brave enough to have a look.

Although Sterling couldn't fault Philip's enterprising genius, he didn't like the thought of people gawking at his cats through the bars. Raja and Leena were performers, not freak attractions. If any among them should be locked up and gawked at, it was he.

"I have been waiting for you to slip into my wagon at night now that you have tired of the pale-faced woman."

He hadn't noticed Mora's approach. "I do not care to share your wagon, Mora, or anything else with you," he said.

She grabbed his arm. "Now that you have tired of her, why not take what I offer? She is nothing but a pasty-faced English girl. Nothing but a silly child who could not please you beneath your pelts. She is - "

"Do not insult Elise in my presence again," Sterling warned, tugging his arm from the woman's grasp. "She is a lady and has not shared my bed."

The snake charmer's dark eyes widened. "All this time, she slept in your wagon and you did not take her? Why would you deny yourself?" Now Mora's eyes narrowed. "Unless she has bewitched you. Unless she has stolen inside of your cold heart and claimed it for her own. Only a man who cares for a woman would treat her with respect."

He didn't deny Mora's accusations. What was the point? A man could lie to himself, but he could never lie to his heart. Elise had stolen it, maybe from the very first moment he'd lit the lantern and seen her sitting upon his cot. Denial. He thought it might save him, but in the end, he knew that it would not.

"She is a fool who wears her love for you openly, but you are an even bigger fool. You are not like her... You are like me."

He shook his head. "No. I'm not like you." A sarcastic laugh slipped past his lips. "I'm not like anyone you know of, or ever will. Stay away from me."

Sterling walked away from Mora, mingling with the crowd. He felt women watching him as he moved, but he didn't give them a moment's notice. Only one woman ruled his thoughts. Would she dance tonight? Could he stand to watch her? Could he bear to stay away?

Elise's stomach twisted. Her skin felt cold and clammy. She stood in the shadows, too dazed to listen to Philip's introduction of her. Philip motioned her forward into the circle of burning torches. An expectant hush fell over the crowd.

She drew a deep breath and stepped into the circle. Loud catcalls almost sent her scrambling for the safety of Sterling's wagon. Elise forced herself to remain where she stood. Her gaze roamed the faces flushed by the torchlight, seeking one face in particular. Disappointment settled over her, but then she saw him. Even with him standing at the back of those gathered around, his height made the eye travel to him easily. But she could not see him clearly, and she needed to, wanted to dance, only for Sterling.

Lifting her hands into the air, Elise gyrated her hips in a slow and, she hoped, sensuous manner. Her gaze remained fixed upon Sterling. He took a step toward her. She turned a circle, body swaying, and when next she faced him, he stood at the front of the crowd, right before her.

His eyes were intense, with a hint of a glow about them. They ran the length of her, then slowly made their way back up to lock with hers. Elise plucked a veil from her skimpy costume. Coins showered her feet and male voices shouted appreciation. Elise cared nothing about the coins or the other men present. She danced neither for payment nor to stir the passions of any man save one.

She wanted Sterling, and she wanted him to want her in return. Her fingers slid up her stomach, as he had taught her. She plucked another veil, and again coins tinkled from the sky like snowflakes in winter. Sliding her fingers over the full rise of her breasts, she plucked another scarf, revealing the expanse of her cleavage. A fire ignited within Sterling's silver eyes. He drew a sudden breath.

For the first time, Elise understood her power over men, her power over Sterling. Her pulse quickened, and so did her steps, her gyrations bolder now. His gaze lowered to her hips, stayed there as if she'd cast a spell over him. Innocence floated away like the brightly covered scarves that now littered the ground at her feet Elise understood what held him enthralled. The mating dance. The thought of her hips moving beneath him, keeping a rhythm as old as time.

The roar of male voices grew louder. Taylor was suddenly there, walking the circle to keep the men restrained. Elise hardly noticed. She only had eyes for Sterling.

Elise would start a riot if she continued to dance as she did, Sterling thought. She had worked the men into a fevered frenzy, him included. He wanted to growl at the men, warn them off. Elise belonged to him. He would take her, make her his, and to hell with the consequences.

Without ceremony, Sterling stepped into the circle, snatched her arm, and pulled her along. The crowd erupted behind him. Sterling knew Philip and Tom could handle them. He heard Philip shouting something about a jealous husband. Loud groans of disappointment from the men followed, and then Philip turned the crowd's attention toward the animal wagons.

Elise did not fight him. He reached their wagon and pulled her inside. She sat upon the cot, lifting a brow in question.

"You will not dance again," he told her. "Not for those crazed men who drool all over themselves like village idiots!"

"All right."

Sterling was taken aback. He had fully expected some sort of argument.

"I will dance only for you, as I did tonight."

It appeared as if she was dancing for him and him alone tonight, Sterling admitted. "So we agree that you will dance only for me, and only inside of this wagon?" The thought pleased him.

"No."

His brow shot up this time. "No?"

Elise stood. "You told me that if I wanted to ride safely with the caravan to Liverpool, I must earn my way. Then you told me that manual labor would not suffice. You insisted that I learn the veil dance and perform for my supper, so to speak, and that is exactly what I intend to do."

"Things were different between us then," he reminded.

"They seem to be different between us daily," she huffed. "You will have to swallow your simpering male jealousy, Sterling, and allow me to do my duty by Philip. You lay no claim to me."

He stepped closer, his temper rising. "You are mine!"

Instead of backing from him, Elise closed the distance between them. "You have not made me yours. And even were you to lay claim to my body, to my heart, I have spent my life being ruled by my uncle. I will not trade one prison for another. I ran away in search of freedom. All else I give you gladly, I give you with a trusting heart, but my will belongs to me."

She had come a long way in a short space of time. Sterling admired her spirit, had from the moment he'd met her. Did he really want to clip her wings? She had only just begun to fly. And how could he take what she would give with a trusting heart when she didn't know the horrible truth about him? When he could not bring himself to tell her?

"You should not trust me, Elise," he said softly, reaching out to caress her smooth cheek. "I am not all you think I am."

She clasped his hand against her face. "Then tell me your secrets, and I'll tell you mine."

"My secrets are dark. Too dark for one as sweet and innocent as you. We are as different as night and day, Elise."

"The night and the day cannot exist without each other," she whispered. "Why do you fight the feelings you have for me? Do you count me unworthy of them?"

He shook his head, pulling his hand from her grasp. "I don't want to fight them, but for your sake, and my own, I must. I cannot love you, Elise, and you deserve that from a man."

Her brow furrowed again. "Do you mean that you..." She blushed. "That you are incapable of performing the act of love?"

He laughed. Sterling couldn't help himself. He was still aroused from watching her dance, aroused from just being near her. "No. I am perfectly capable of performing. It is my heart that I cannot surrender to you."

The softness faded from her eyes. Her gaze filled with hurt. "Why? I have surrendered mine to you."

How sweet those words were to his ears. He had to get away from her before he did surrender, and surrender all. Before she saw him for what he truly was. Sterling pushed past her and reached for the door.

"I apologize," he said. "Stay inside of the wagon. I will be close by if you need me."

In a gesture as daring as her earlier dance, Elise flung herself in front of the door, barring his way. "I do need you, Sterling. I need you tonight."